Cynical Soldier
by Ferryman
Summary: Despite all that anger McKay doesn't have a dark side.....until someone put it there. His mind was meant to absorb science and creation, not death and destruction.
1. Chapter 1

_This chapter was written by Barcardicider. I had to guess what the plot was and although I guessed wrong we both liked the plot I invented and so … with her permission… I have written the wrong answer and here it is. This first chapter is hers_

_and my inspiration. The chapters that follow are mine. I hope you enjoy and join me in thanks to both Barcardicider and Jayne Perry for beta, and Leesa Perrie for grammar and all three for support and basic idiot spotting._

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter One;**

He grunted in pain as he wrapped his injured hand around an old tree root, the sound lost in the howl of the wind and pounding of the heavy rain. He pulled himself further up the muddy slope, his feet fighting for purchase on the slippery ground. His other hand snagged a young sapling and with the last of his strength pulled himself to the top of the slope. He staggered to his feet and moved to one of the large, looming trees that grew atop the slope, and leant his back against it, his chest heaving as he gulped in air. The tree gave no shelter from the unrelenting wind and rain.

He looked round the trunk at the direction he had come. He looked down at the slope that he had slithered and slipped up and noted that the rain had already washed away his trail. He tried to peer through the rain, but could make nothing out, the visibility poor. He lent back into the tree trunk, his breathing less ragged. He looked down at his battered hand and cursed; he gingerly gripped his wrist with the other hand and brought the injured hand up to his chest. He smiled.

His tormentors wouldn't be pursuing him, even if the wind and the rain had not put them off, the fact that he had killed one of them surely would have. He had killed the creatures in the forest for food and their pelts, but he had always regretted taking their lives and he killed them quick. A pull and a twist, a quick but deep slash across the throat, a moment's pain and then nothing.

But the men that had tormented him, those he had dreamt about killing and it gave him satisfaction that he had killed one of them slowly, painfully and at such close range that he could see the results in all its glorious detail. His smile widened as he remembered how the blood had coated his hands, his clothes. Confident in the certainty that they wouldn't torment him anymore because he had just changed the rules.

****************************

"Unscheduled off-world activation."

Weir got up from her desk and walked into the Control Room.

"IDC coming through," the technician looked up as Weir stepped closer to the console, "It's Major Lorne."

"Open the shield."

The shield dissolved in a shimmer of light, a few seconds later Major Lorne stepped out of the gate, the wormhole disengaging behind him.

Weir was already half way down the stairs to the gate room floor, when Major Lorne bounded up the rest to meet her.

""Doctor Weir, I've found McKay," he said.

Weir looked at him disbelievingly. "Lorne…"

"It's a long story ma'am." Lorne interrupted. He tugged at a piece of parchment from his vest, handing it to Weir.

She unrolled it. "Oh my God," she said softly, she brought her hand up to activate her radio.

"Colonel Sheppard, please gather your team and meet me in the conference room."

*****************************

"Elizabeth, what's this about?" Sheppard questioned as soon as Weir stepped through the conference room door giving Lorne a quick frown.

Weir handed Sheppard the piece of parchment Lorne had given to her.

Sheppard looked at it quizzically for a moment and then unrolled the parchment.

"Shit. You sure?" he asked Lorne, as he passed the parchment to Ronon and Teyla.

"Yes sir. Time frame fits…"

"We go now," Ronon growled.

Weir indicated that everyone should sit. "Major, from the beginning please," she pulled out a chair and sat, after a moments hesitation the others followed, leaving just Lorne standing.

**Cont/d…**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter Two**

Lorne took a step closer to the table, nodding to Sheppard as he took a seat and turned to Weir to issue his report.

"We arrived at the trading post and as our information detailed there was a market. Webegan trading for the things we agreed upon. It was going fine, they had everything we needed and it was all going smoothly."

He turned and reached out for one of the parchments pulling it to him and rubbing it between his thumb and forefingers.

"Parrish saw this nailed to what seemed like a central notice board, he just stood there staring at it. We all moved over to see what had affected him…" Lorne shook his head. "I've been looking at this for over an hour now and I still can't quite believe it. To start with I thought it might be some sort of wanted poster or some thing out of date from before..."

He sighed before continuing. "As you can see, it's an advert for an auction of a soldier." He waved a hand over the others on the table, "we found more around the town, nailed to taverns, shops and such. We asked around and apparently this race is well known for selling people well trained in the art of war. From the sounds of it they sell Ninja type's which people purchase and use as bodyguards or to make an army or even as a single assassin to carry out their dirty work.

I know McKay doesn't fall into that category but," he shook his head again in disbelief as he stared at the image looking back at him, he swept a hand over the parchment, "that's definitely him. They say that the notices appeared two months ago. Apparently, these appear three months before the auction. They only sell soldiers through an auction and their gate is only available during the times specified by this," he finished as he raised the parchment with one hand.

"We need to check the address, now, and see if it's accessible." Sheppard stated and there was steel in his voice.

"We already tried from the planet, Sir. No access. We tried to find out where the planet was in the hopes that we could reach it by space but no-one there knew. I thought maybe there was a chance that we might find something in the database if I brought this back. The rest of my team are still on the planet, trying to find out if there is anything we missed. They are under orders to report back today, in four hours, I'll notify you if they find anything new."

Sheppard turned to Weir. "If we go back to the planet where we thought he… you know… maybe we might find a clue there. It's obvious that it was a trap, maybe we can find something in the DHD there that will give us access to their gate."

"Colonel, we now know that McKay was not killed in that explosion. However, until today we were totally convinced that he had. We are talking about technology we know nothing about or an illusion that was beyond our comprehension. Either way, they fooled us once and took someone from right under our noses. I am sorry, but until we know more about them, at least where they live, I cannot and will not give them the chance to do so again."

Weir turned to Teyla and Ronon, "Have either of you heard of these people before?"

Ronon shook his head, "I didn't leave Sateda much and while I was running I didn't interact with other people. I only took note of what the planet could give me to keep me alive."

Weir nodded and looked to Teyla who was shaking her head. "We never had a need for the things they offer. I have heard of some planets that trade in people but we never ventured there or had anything to do with people who did. I can give you a list of planets I know of that trade in slaves but I would recommend against visiting such planets without a strong contingent of soldiers. These people have no thought for an individual's rights and we could easily find ourselves the object of unwanted attention."

Weir nodded, "Then we will have to hope that the Ancient's database comes up with something. I will notify Zelenka and ask him to look for anything that might give us some information. I am afraid that all we can do now is to wait until the auction, unless Parrish finds something. I suggest, Colonel that you use that time to plan for anything."

She rose from her chair, taking one of the parchments with her. As she left, Sheppard could hear her asking Zelenka to meet her in her office. He looked up as he heard Lorne standing, "I'd best go get my all clear, I'll be in the infirmary if you need me, Sir," Lorne said, nodding to Sheppard.

Sheppard could only nod in acknowledgement before looking down at the parchment that had never moved from under his hand. He carefully peeled his hand aside as if scared the image would have gone or changed. He looked down at the image of Dr. Rodney McKay, deceased until an hour ago.

"He's alive," whispered Teyla, her voice slightly breathless with excitement and disbelief.

Sheppard raised his eyebrows and nodded. What could you say when there were no words to describe the emotions, far too many emotions. They had been on stand down for the last month at Heightmeyers insistence so they could deal with their loss. Neither of them had been able to.

Silence killed them, reminded them he wasn't there. Ronon had talked more in the last month than he had in the last year and John was sure it was to cover the unbearable silence. Every time they ate, they remembered his love of food. Atlantis was here and working because of McKay's work. Everything, everywhere reminded them that Dr Rodney McKay had died on their watch and there was nothing they could do to bring him back… except… now there was.

"We've got a second chance. This time we're bringing him home alive. We can't take anything at face value. I want scanners, puddle jumpers, everything." He glanced at the two of them and they were both nodding with determination.

Sheppard looked down at the image and smiled. "One month and Atlantis won't be so quiet anymore." He didn't need to look at the other two to see their smiles.

"Let's go get an early lunch and then we can start planning," Sheppard said as he stood. "Lorne should be finished by then."

They walked through the halls to the Mess without feeling the world crashing in on them and for the first time in two months they ate without it feeling like a wake and without the food turning to ash on their tongues.

****************

Rodney sat on his haunches, just within the shadows of the cave. His eyes shone out of the darkness, hard and alert, as he listened to the surrounding forest.

His muscles on edge, ready to push him into action if needed. He could hear the rain falling through the trees, leaves moving from the weight of the water. His head rotated silently causing the light to move across his face.

His eyes narrowed in concentration as he filtered the natural sounds of the wildlife moving amongst the foliage. _There. _His movements froze as his eyes flicked to a point in the panorama before him.

A scream broke through, bloodcurdling and full of fear and cut short. A smile seeped onto his face but did not seem connected to the shine in his eyes. He rose silently and sauntered to the mouth of the cave. _See how I return the gifts you gave me._ He snorted. _I hope you took time to appreciate my modifications before you died._

He glanced to the rear of the cave to ensure the tools he had procured from those he had killed up close were hidden from view before he turned and sprinted into the forest. The surroundings embraced him as he moved amongst the trees, sprinting easily and silently through the half shadows.

He headed towards the clearing he had prepared. He changed the way he moved and suddenly he left a trail of wreckage and noises that echoed behind him. He left a clear trail to follow through the clearing and with another change to his movements he fell silent again as he exited the glade. Moving through the forest like a ghost he reached his destination and using his strong arms he pulled himself up into the tree, pulling up the rope behind him. He flexed his left hand, checking the minor injury, before he took hold of the guide ropes in each hand and waited.

He saw the two remaining hunters move cautiously into the clearing, they were twitchy. He sneered at their jarring nerves, clear even from the distance that he watched them from. They crept into the clearing with rifles sighted and held in an iron grip as they swept the rifles around the glade. Every three or four sweeps the blonde one on the right would cast a quick glance to the floor to check the trail that Rodney had left.

Every step forward was pre-empted by a wide sweeping arc of the foot to clear the brush aside to see the ground beneath before they stepped to it. They had learnt that dead leaves could hide your death.

_Jumpy much Gentlemen._ Half his mouth raised in an ugly sneer as he tightened his grip on the ropes watching intently. Suddenly he pulled hard on the rope in his right hand and listened as it tugged the pin loose down in the glade. In the blink of an eye the two soldiers watched the pin snake out of the clearing which meant the blonde man didn't see his death till the last second.

The sprung loaded branch, now released, flew from where it had been hidden in the ground, tearing through the fragile camouflage that had hidden it so well. It whistled as it travelled through the air stopping with a reverberating jolt as the lethal spike at its apex drove into the mans chest, pushing life out. There was no scream, just a shuddering shocked gasp as he hung dying.

Rodney watched the man's dark haired colleague freeze in shock at the sudden attack. Nothing moved, even the forest around them fell silent in anticipation that was almost palpable. Just the gentle thum, thum of the rain fell in the background.

The dark haired man took a staggering step forward and then, realising the danger, he froze throwing a quick exploratory look to the ground, searching for the signs of a second device. _Only a lazy mind repeats itself, _Rodney thought sardonically.

He watched as the man approached his dying friend and slowly edged round, "Scansa?" His friend's name he presumed as the man's voice echoed through the glade. The blonde's eyes flittered open to show slithers of blue and a wet, bubbling moan escaped his lips as a little blood fell down his chin.

The dark haired man gave a hunted look in all directions and Rodney could see the fear in his wide eyes as he looked in his direction before looking back at his friend. He watched as the man slung his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. "I am sorry, Scansa." The words should have been a whisper but with nothing to drown them out the words carried easily to Rodney who watched the whole scene with cold eyes.

The black haired man pushed hard forcing his friend off the spike, pain forcing his friend to throw his own head back, screaming in agony against the sky as the rain fell gently around them. He spun his friend quickly supporting him and started to make his way out of the glade by the exact spot they had entered following a path he knew to be safe.

Rodney was in no doubt that the man remembered there had only been one trap set each time so far. He watched carefully as the man led his friend from the clearing. Just as he passed the last tree Rodney pulled the rope on his left with all his strength. The man froze as the sound of the pin being released echoed loudly, and that was his second mistake. The first was continuing after the first man was killed.

A heavy arm came swinging down, gravity giving it speed as it slammed both men into the trunk behind them before he had even managed to release his friend. Pinned in place he was unable to reach his rifle, still slung over his shoulder. He struggled against the bar that held him but it was stuck fast, pushing precious air from his chest and lungs.

Rodney scrambled down and jogged to the edge of the clearing, making sure that their missing numbers had not been replaced. After making sure these were the last of them he advanced across the glade.

He ignored the pale blonde who was already living life on borrowed time. He kept his cold gaze on the dark haired man pinned in place, who had frozen as he advanced. The terror in the man was clear and only intensified as Rodney leant in close with hatred and murder in the lines of his face. In cold, crisp notes of hate he asked, "Who am I?"

**Cont/d……**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 3 – Issue 2**

Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon left the mess. As they walked through the halls of Atlantis they saw that word was already spreading.

Many still thought of McKay as a spiteful and petty man but not one of them failed to realise the man was responsible for saving their lives more than once. A fact easily forgotten in his presence yet magnified in his absence. Many had questioned their chances of prolonged survival since news of his death.

It was taken as granted McKay would be back as good as new, he had survived against the odds so many times, no one seemed to doubt it. General consensus was all McKay needed it seemed was breath in his body and a thought in his head. No one appeared brave enough to ask out loud why two months had already passed.

In the two months since his death McKay's name had been used as if made of fragile glass to be handled delicately and sparingly and spoken tentatively in their presence as though they would break at the sound of it. The braver members of the expedition came on tenderfoot, nervous about approaching the people who felt his loss more than most, and asked if it was true.

Sheppard had nodded and stated with a tight smile, "We can't reach him for another month, but yes he's alive," torn between not wanting to give them false hope and wanting to give them something. Maybe it was because Teyla knew him better than most but no one questioned the blandness of his voice or how the euphoria had left his eyes. All the visitors sighed deep and contented in relief as they turned and left, light footed and sure.

Teyla had watched Sheppard closely during each exchange, watched him grow quieter and more thoughtful at each one. Now as they walked through the hallways, it was Teyla who breached their quiet thoughts.

"They believe he will return alive."

Sheppard nodded in response. Ronon glanced between them but sensing she had more to say remained quiet, returning his gaze to the hallway ahead.

"You do not," Teyla stated. Her words were unusually hard and tinged with anger bringing Ronon's attention back to them to watch with open curiosity. Sheppard had grimaced at her words and now scanned the hallways.

"Not here," he said softly. "I don't want to take this away from them."

Teyla nodded but the lines of her body remained tense. They reached the Military Conference room with its smooth walls of midnight blue, unbroken by windows, with earth tables of yellow beige, flooded with spotlights in the ceiling.

Sheppard locked the doors after they entered. "I'm not saying this won't occur to the others but just in case I want to keep this just between us, those who know McKay best."

Teyla and Ronon exchanged glances as they took their seats. Sheppard paced in front of them before turning to face them. "I'm happy he's alive… hell I'm ecstatic," he huffed a laugh as a smile spread over his face which Teyla and Ronon returned but remained silent. He leant on the table, palms spread and arms locked straight.

His eyes roved, searching out the words he couldn't find as the smile melted away to be replaced by frustration. "We don't know what they've done to Mckay and it may be nothing but," he looked intently into their eyes, "he's been missing for two months now."

He pushed himself away from the table in frustration and anger. "They're selling him as a soldier for god's sake. I mean this is McKay we're talking about. For that to happen they would have needed to change him, and I'm worried about how much."

"He fights with us," Ronon grumbled.

"That's different and you already know it is. Sure he'll fire a gun but only if he has to, only to protect us and yeah he can be a pretty dangerous guy but he lacks that killer instinct. He does only what's needed to protect us and Atlantis, nothing more. He uses science not guns. You know he's not the soldier they're advertising and we have to face the fact that the man we rescue may not be the McKay we know."

Sheppard took a seat opposite them and looked between the two of them as he spoke. "What if they've messed with his mind, brainwashed him or something? He's been missing so long."

"I've seen enemies fail to keep him time and time again. What if he's changed so much he doesn't know us anymore? If he thinks we're the enemy we may not be able to hold him long enough to fix him, not to mention all that genius directed at us. People forget how dangerous he can be."

"So what do you suggest?" Teyla asked. "Are you saying we should _not_ bring him back to Atlantis?" Scepticism tinged her normally balanced voice.

"That's just it," Sheppard stressed, looking from one to the other. "He loves Atlantis and if anything can reach him it's her. Even if he doesn't remember us, I can't believe Atlantis can't reach him."

"But did you not say it could be dangerous to bring him here. Dr Weir would not risk Atlantis, even for Rodney," Teyla stated gently.

"That's why we shouldn't tell her," Sheppard said warily as he watched them. "We're considered experts on McKay and if we say we think he's safe, if we all agree then…" Sheppard shrugged, watching them.

"But did you not say Dr Weir and Dr Beckett knew Rodney before you?" Teyla asked.

"They've known him longer, from before Atlantis, but he's changed a lot and although they've read the reports I don't think they've contemplated those changes or comprehend just how dangerous he could be. I don't think they will even consider McKay a danger but if they do, if it comes up then we need to be agreed we can convince them otherwise."

"And you think we should," Ronon asked, before shrugging. "Don't get me wrong. Personally I don't see a problem, I never had trouble dealing with McKay before but if you really think he can be dangerous should we really bring him back."

Sheppard looked at him hard. "Don't underestimate him Ronon, I've seen far to many of our enemies make that mistake. I almost did it myself. Trust me, his mind more than compensates for his lack of fighting capabilities. If I'm bringing him back to Atlantis I need you to see the danger here."

Sheppard looked from one to the other. "I know it might be dangerous but I believe it's our only option if we want McKay back." He leant forwards, voice turning earnest. "But he can't be forced. We have to make sure it's one of us that talks to him first. I think we've got the best chance of reaching him. If we can convince him to return without force then he won't be dangerous. As long as he's not forced into a corner he should be safe."

Silence fell over them to be broken by Ronon. "And if we can't convince him?"

Sheppard visibly deflated. "I just don't know." His voice was heavy with defeat. Eventually he leant back in his chair with a sigh. "Well, we've got a month to think of a plan B." He shrugged with a brittle smile. "There's always the hope that he's still the same and they haven't changed him at all." It was clear from his voice that he didn't believe a word of it. McKay had been gone too long not to remain unaffected one way or another and they all knew it.

He took a deep breath and leant forward. "We'd best call Lorne to join us so we can discuss the rescue mission. We can talk about these things another time, just so long as we're agreed that McKay will not be a danger to Atlantis if it comes up." He raised a questioning eyebrow to which Ronon and Teyla responded nodding with determination. They would stand by their teammate, whatever happened.

Sheppard relief was visible as he grinned, raising a hand to his ear, "Sheppard to Lorne."

"Yes, Sir?"

"We're in the mission room, can you join us?"

"Yes, Sir, got the all clear from the Doc, just finishing up in the mess hall so I can be there in ten minutes, unless you want me to come straight away, Sir?" Lorne enquired.

"No, that's fine. See you in ten." Sheppard signed off and leant forward again. "Thank you," he said softly. "I know he means as much to you, but I also know what I'm asking you to risk…"

Teyla placed her hand on top of Sheppard's, smiling. "I cannot believe McKay would harm Atlantis, that even with a killer instinct he would kill indiscriminately so I agree. If I am asked, I will say he is safe."

Ronon looked from one to the other. "He would do no less for me. If asked, I will say he's safe."

Sheppard nodded, grinning. It seemed with this agreed a weight was lifted from his shoulders that enabled him to revel in the earlier euphoria. "I still can't quite believe it, McKay alive."

Teyla's return smile was radiant and Ronon's wolfish grin broad.

Sheppard unlocked the doors and the readied the room for the discussions ahead. They had just connected the main view screen when Lorne arrived. Sheppard indicated the chair in front of the laptop which was connected to the screen. As Lorne sat down, Teyla, Ronon and Sheppard fell into chairs around him.

"Where do you want to start, Sir?" Lorne asked.

"Until we know if Zelenka can get us closer by space or if we will be using their stargate there is not a lot we can plan. I think we should start by listing all possible scenarios and dangers we might encounter on the planet. We can then spend the next month finding 'fixes' for the list, finalising a list of supplies and the personnel required. Agreed?"

They all nodded and proceeded to do just that. It quickly became clear that they would have to include Zelenka in their next meeting as a lot of suspected problems would require technical 'fixes'.

At 17:00 Lorne received word from Parrish. He was just getting the all clear at the infirmary and he would be there in fifteen minutes. They continued with the list but with a distracted air, each trying to second guess the information Parrish would bring. The fifteen minutes dragged an eternity, not helped by the constant clock watching.

Eventually, Parrish arrived. He came into the room with a spring in his step.

"What did you find out?" Sheppard asked as soon as he was through the door, indicating a chair as he said so.

Parrish sat down. "Nothing more on McKay or the auctions but I found the name of a previous buyer that would be willing to talk to us. I told them we weren't convinced about the 'quality' of the goods being sold.

"I've been given a name, Sangerra Malenda. They purchased a bodyguard that is still in their 'possession'," the last word dripping with disdain. "At the very least we might be able to learn more about the race and their defences, at best I am hoping we can actually speak to the bodyguard to find out their procedures, training, anything that gives us an idea of what they're doing to McKay and where he will be held during the auction."

"Well done, Parrish. When do we visit this Malenda character?" asked Sheppard.

"I have to go back tomorrow to find out. I have stressed the earlier the better."

"You've done well, Parrish. Why don't you go get something to eat in the Mess?" Sheppard said with a smile.

"If it's all the same, Colonel, I'd like to help."

Sheppard smiled warmly. "We won't be doing anymore today. In view of what you've said, we're better waiting till we know more. One more thing before we finish for the night though."

Parrish looked at him questioningly.

"Thank you for finding him," he said softly. Ronon clapped Parrish on the shoulder with a wide grin that lit up his eyes as Teyla reached out to place a hand on his, "Yes, thank you."

Parrish blushed as he replied. "Just right place, right time. I'm just glad one of us was there, the thought this auction could have proceeded without us ever knowing. He could have ended up anywhere."

"Well, the only place McKay is going to end up is home, here in Atlantis," Sheppard stated, to be answered by smiles and determined nods.

"Now, as we can't really go any further till tomorrow we may as well discuss tomorrow's mission instead and then I'll go report to Dr. Weir."

They got down to business, discussing staff and supplies for the return trip to the planet. Eventually, with everything finalised Sheppard left to meet Elizabeth to get the all clear for the mission.

**Cont/d….. **


	4. Chapter 4

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter Four Issue 2;**

Sheppard showered and changed. As he neared the bed he lifted the parchment and stood looking at it for a while. He crawled into bed and sat looking down at the image of Rodney McKay. He felt foolish, or at least he would of if he didn't know that Ronon and Teyla had taken one as well.

Sheppard put the parchment on his bedside cabinet as he squirreled down under the bedclothes, turning off the lights. As every night before, here in his quarters with no distractions, his thoughts turned to the death of Rodney McKay.

The guilt was still there, weaving under and around his brittle emotions, ever present. It was more potent than before because now he knew he had left a man behind, had left McKay to face the enemy with no friend at his back. He knows McKay, how resourceful he can be and the thought that's killing him the most is that he can't help but wonder how long McKay held out before he realised they weren't coming back for him.

He had thought that the pain had been replaced by anger so the tears in his eyes surprised him, even if they remained unshed. He closed his eyes against the futility of torturing himself with these thoughts. His eyes flicked open wide, breath catching in his throat. He had forgotten for an instant that he can't close his eyes until sleep takes him, can't bear to hear McKay's dying screams for a second longer than he has too. Lie or not, the pain McKay felt must have been very real. They hurt McKay and they hurt his team and they will have to pay for that.

He has gone over the last mission a hundred times and more, always finding himself lacking. Now, with new eyes he relives it again but this time he is looking for the answers of how they did it, how they took McKay from right in front of him.

He lies with his eyes open because somehow it's easier not to hear McKay scream when his eyes are open. In the half shadows of his room as the moonlight cascades through the open balcony door, he stares at the ceiling and remembers.

They emerged through the gate. McKay had pulled his scanner out before the stargate had even closed. He started walking away.

"McKay," Sheppard admonished.

McKay jerked into focus. "What? Oh, no life signs, power source that way." He pointed the way he was heading across a plain of tall yellow and orange grass that angled up to meet a pale blue sky, home to the odd lazy cloud. Sheppard shook his head and looked behind him to find Teyla suppressing an indulgent smirk and Ronon well, being Ronon.

"Ronon, take our six. Teyla take point. I'll take the great white hunter." He turned and jogged with Teyla up to McKay, stopping as she continued past to take point four or five paces ahead.

There was no breeze so they would see anything moving through the grass. There was a gentle sound of crickets that made him feel better. Silent planets made him edgy, always made him think 'deathly quiet' which always made him nervous.

McKay, oblivious to being surrounded, glanced at him and began telling him about the energy signature. He engaged 'Field Filter' which meant he immediately discarded the words from his memory as soon as McKay uttered them, intending to retain anything important just as soon as McKay got around to saying it. He ran his hand through the grass as he walked, fingertips skimming through the tips of the grasses, the other resting on his P90.

They reached a ridge where the ground swept gradually down and away, rising again to match the level of ground they stood on. It had probably been a wide and deep river bed at some point but it must have been eons ago because somebody had built in the middle of it.

From their height advantage they could see it consisted of a central octagon chamber with four smaller identical rooms at each corner. Each octagon chamber had a yellow glass dome that had been damaged in places.

"Huh?" McKay paused long enough to utter this non-descriptive before he proceeded down the gradual slope. The rest of the team took up their usual positions around him.

The entrance was built into the flat wall at their end, between two of the smaller octagons. They made their way to the double doors, walking past where Teyla stood looking up at the wall and closed doors, no doubt assessing how to enter. As he and McKay approached the doors opened. He put a hand on McKay's bicep, halting him, as he shook his head.

"Colonel," McKay whined.

"Rodney," he whispered, mimicking the whine exactly.

McKay's beleaguered sigh, along with the crossed arms and sulky death glare, told him McKay would wait for the all clear. He glanced behind him and nodded to Ronon who nodded back before turning and scanning their surroundings.

He advanced with Teyla into the building, with P90's raised and ready. The dome flooded light into the centre of the chamber, leaving the pale blue walls in light shadows. The light that fell was stained bright yellow from the coloured glass of the dome, with the shattered panes causing beams to land randomly across the dusty floor.

They swept their gun lights into the dark recesses of the room, sweeping up and over the walls. Double doors were visible on the four angled walls. No doubt leading to the smaller octagon extensions they had seen from the outside. All four doors were closed.

"We clear each room one at a time, McKay keep watch on the closed doors as we go," he nodded to Teyla and together they moved to the door nearest him, the first on the left as they entered.

Initially surprised the doors didn't open automatically on his approach like the main entrance; he spotted the door mechanism and activated it. The room was empty with just the remnants of seating that probably used to run the whole circumference of the room which was now in the same state of disarray as the central chamber. They scanned the empty walls and retreated. He shook his head at McKay's questioning expressions before moving onto the second room with Teyla, towards the rear.

This room was also in disarray but instead of the seating there was a single cage facing the door, still sturdy. There was nothing else in the room. Cages made him nervous and they searched this room a lot more thoroughly, taking their time, but found nothing.

A lot more cautiously they moved across the main chamber to room number three. This room had consoles against the three walls on the left, leaving the remaining walls bare. Dust lay heavy over everything, dust motes drifting easily in the clear white beams that dotted randomly over the consoles and floor. However, the damage in this room was visually minimal compared to the others.

As they moved back into the main chamber they found McKay next to them, passing to enter the third room. Sheppard put a restraining hand on McKay's bicep. "Still one more room to go McKay, head back to the door."

"But…" McKay started, one arm starting to raise the life signs detector and the other starting to point toward the room.

Sheppard cut short the rant by interrupting, "I don't care what the life signs detector says. I don't want to have to fight something while having to come back here to get you and then through them to get you out again. Will you just wait by the door," keeping his voice low, but failing to keep the exasperation out of it. He took a restraining breath, "It wont be long, Rodney, just to be on the safe side."

McKay's mouth fell into a thin line but he did go back to the main entrance as Sheppard moved with Teyla to the last room. It was identical to the first one, with remnants of seating around the walls and nothing dangerous and a small petty part of him was disappointed, just as he was sure a large petty part of McKay was pleased.

"Looks like your prize is behind door number three," Sheppard said, sweeping an arm out to the third room but McKay was already halfway across the chamber. He turned to Teyla, "You and Ronon do a sweep of the outside. I'll stay here with McKay." Teyla nodded with a smile as she left.

He glanced between the two seating rooms and back to the cage room. A prisoner, maybe the two rooms were for and against, like a court room, but he didn't see how the third console room came into it so maybe not. It looked like he would have to wait for McKay to figure it out. He walked into the console room, "So, what we got then?" he asked McKay.

"I can tell you what we haven't got," McKay said, disappointment clear in his voice as he unpacked his laptop. "Monitors, none of these screens work." He connected the laptop to the console. His fingers flew across the keyboard, his mumblings turned frustrated.

"McKay?" Sheppard queried.

"The database is encrypted. It's going to take a while to decipher. It's not that big so I'm gonna download it and look at it back on Atlantis. If it pinpoints the power source or details anything interesting we can come back. It shouldn't take long to download." He pressed a couple of keys and then straightened, sliding a power bar out of his tac vest and started eating. He was looking at the wall in front of him in a quizzical manner.

"You can't find the power source?" Sheppard queried, knowing it was generally the first thing he sort out.

"Hmmm?" Rodney asked as he turned to him, as if surprised he wasn't alone. "Er, no. Either this place is run on a generator of some sort or the power source is shielded but it doesn't look as if it would need a great deal of power to run so don't get your hopes up. All I can tell is that there is a power source of some sort here, which the doors opening would have told me anyway. We will just have to wait until we return to Atlantis, Colonel. About twenty minutes," a beaming smile appeared on McKay's face, "On the bright side, we will be back in time for lunch." McKay turned back to the wall in front of him and the beaming smile morphed into one of confusion as he angled his head.

He shook his head at McKay's antics. He couldn't decide if McKay was figuring out some mathematical equation or deciding which dessert to have at lunch. He heard footsteps and turning back into the main chamber he saw Teyla and Ronon. He met them halfway in the middle of the chamber, using his facial expressions to ask if they found anything.

"Nothing, Colonel," Teyla said softly, "not even an animal has passed this way in a very long time."

"These measurements are all wrong," McKay's voice drifted out of the third room and they all turned to see him walking back into the main chamber looking at the walls intently.

Trust McKay to be moaning that some long dead builder had got it wrong, who knew there was a perfect octagon measurement. He shook his head with a smile, turning again as Ronon spoke. "There was a building on the back wall, but we couldn't find an entrance."

Sheppard nodded, "Okay, McKay's downloading the database and will probably want to look before we leave. Apparently, we will be back in time for lunch," he added. Telya smiled knowingly at him and Ronon gave the same beaming smile that McKay just had.

"Aha," the strident tones of McKay rang out, drenched in smugness.

He turned, just in time to see McKay walking through the wall, which he now realised, was a hologram, similar to the wraith cave that Teyla had led them to that time.

"McKay!" Sheppard growled as he stomped towards the wall. _Damn that man, he was going to kill him. He was going to sit him down and have the 'possible dangers' chat yet again and then he was going to kill him._

He stopped dead in his tracks as the wall became transparent, showing McKay in an oblong room with white lights for walls and ceiling but with a tarnished metal grating for a floor. McKay was pushing against the invisible wall, so the hologram was obviously only one way. A rumble started from the depths of the ground. McKay locked eyes with him as he uttered quietly, "Oh, that's not good," the worry evident in his voice.

"McKay?" Sheppard queried softly, the uneasiness clear. McKay broke eye contact and started hurling himself against the invisible wall between them. They could see his shirt flatten against it, could hear the muffled thud as he hit it. He stopped, panting hard, looking at them with his blue eyes wide in fear.

Sheppard took his hand gun from his holster and shot to the left of McKay. The bullet raced through the air with four sets of eyes following it. As it hit the hologram it slowed velocity as if moving through jello, by the time it had reached the inner chamber all inertia had been lost and it fell uselessly to the floor.

Three sets of eyes turned to McKay who looked sadly at the bullet through the gratings floor before looking back at them and with a forlorn shrug, "Worth a try I guess." McKay took his own gun from the holster and taking a step back held the gun against the invisible wall at point blank range, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head away he pulled the trigger. When he opened his eyes and looked he was as surprised as the others and stared as if transfixed at the bullet that hung in the empty air, contained in the force field.

Sheppard started walking towards McKay. "Don't worry. We'll get you out of there."

McKay shook his head silently, expression sad, "Not this time, John." The white light started to intensify and was suddenly blinding. Sheppard stopped as his eyes closed in reflex when the light assaulted his eyes and turned away. He heard McKay's painful breaths. "I don't know what to do… It's getting hotter, I can't think… It's starting to burn…John…" the words cut short as McKay began to scream in terror and pain.

Sheppard hollered out his name, "McKay!" the single word hurting his throat with the force of it and yet still lost in the sounds of McKay dying. He struggled to open his eyes as his body fought against him to protect his eyes from the light. He edged his way towards McKay, with his eyes scrunched shut and his face turned away from the light.

In an instant the scream stopped and the light disappeared. The suddenness of it making Sheppard freeze, feeling his heart stop only to restart to loud but painful stucco beat. His eyes flew open and he ran to the chamber. It was quiet and empty, at least empty of McKay.

The larger things that had been in his pockets and his gun were twisted together and here and there, caught in the twists were pieces of charred material. Small things glinted under the grating, semi hidden by the ash. Sheppard saw an eyelet that could have come from his boots. Then his blood ran cold as he saw the red flashing light and he recognised McKay's location beacon. Ice spread threw his body and his mind stuttered to a terrified halt.

Teyla and Ronon came to an abrupt stop next to him. The room was slowly blocked from view as the hologram solidified again into the wall. All three of them remained staring at it. He wanted to go through, wanted to search every crevice of that room for some clue that McKay survived but he couldn't risk the same thing happening again.

"It's transported him somewhere," Sheppard said, voice hard daring anyone to mention that being transported didn't usually make you scream like you were being skinned alive nor normally naked and bless them, no one did.

"Yes, yes of course. Where do you think he was transported to?" Teyla asked, distractedly laying a reverent hand on the wall.

"The database, we'll take the database back to Atlantis. It might have a location in it, if not we can bring Zelenka back here."

No one moved or took their eyes off the wall and really that should have told him that they already knew. Eventually Teyla spoke. "We should hurry… you know how he panics when he's alone." Her voice was thick with emotion and he struggled to ignore the tremor in her voice and merely nodded.

He went into the room number three, checking the download had finished before he unplugged the laptop. It took him longer than it should have because he couldn't seem to stop his hands from shaking. He walked back into the main chamber to see Ronon running his hand down the now solid wall with a marked reverence as if caressing something precious.

They made their way back to the gate in silence. Sheppard ignored the painful lump in his throat that hurt to swallow round, ignored the sting in his eyes and didn't even feel the tears running down his face. When they arrived back in Atlantis they were rushed to the infirmary and all treated for shock. They gave their reports from their hospital beds, another taking over when one of them couldn't find the words. Not one of them could say the final words and when Elizabeth asked, "Is Rodney dead?" Sheppard responded.

"No," Low and Sharp. Because if they didn't say it, because this was the Pegasus Galaxy and you never knew, because it just couldn't be and there was always a chance and because this was Rodney McKay and he was larger than life and just because. "No, we don't know what happened. We need Zelenka to look at the database and we need to go back and find him."

Even Teyla and Ronon who faced life's disappointments and heartaches face on did nothing to dissuade him and nodded in agreement. "We need to go back." Ronon said, unusually soft.

It turned out that Radek had managed to decipher the database before they were even released from the infirmary. It seemed they had stumbled across an alien version of death row. It was supposed to provide a quick death to criminals who couldn't be reconditioned by a race long since dead.

It seemed the force field was to keep the prisoner inside during the execution but as a safety measure all that was needed to cancel the procedure was for some one to stop it at one of the consoles in room number three, but without the monitors working and no-one there to read them even if they had, Rodney McKay had died during a procedure he had inadvertently started in motion by turning the machine on to download the database and then sealed his fate by stepping into the chamber.

In the half light of his quarters, John squeezed his eyes shut against the tears but had to open them again when his mind started to replay the screaming. He clenched his jaw against his emotions and swallowed around the painful thorns of sorrow in his throat. He pulled himself up slowly as if the weight on him was unbearable and swung his legs heavily over the side of the bed. He took a breath, hoping to steady his emotions, but it came out ragged and torn.

He clenched down his jaw again and tried to blink away the tears. He stood and walked unsteadily out onto the balcony. He slid down against the wall, looking out over the scene through blurred eyes. His arms pulled at his torso, trying to push against the pain that lay inside him.

As he reached the floor he pulled his knees in tight, using his toes to push against the floor to keep the pressure on. He looked out to the horizon, trying to find some semblance of peace in the calm waters around Atlantis, in the moonlight flooding the surface and the warm breeze that ruffled his hair.

His lips started to quiver and try as he might, he couldn't keep it back. They had just found out McKay was alive, he should be ecstatic but instead the mourning he had denied himself seemed to overflow and grow. He let his head fall forwards, his forehead hitting and resting against his knees. He closed his eyes but the tears still came, along with the screams of Rodney dying. He let it all out, unable to push the emotions away anymore.

He was left shaky and brittle but as his breathing evened out he realised that he felt stronger inside, a strength that he had faked over the last two months. McKay was alive and he was coming back to himself. He was in pain still and he wanted to return it so badly and now finally he could. The first priority was to get McKay back. The second priority was to hurt them, and make them realise how mistaken they were when they thought they could just take McKay.

_I'm sorry Rodney. We know now. We're coming for you and this time we won't leave you behind. This time you're coming home, I promise. Whatever it takes, we won't lose you again._

Eventually sleep took him, though as usual the sleep was fitful, flowing from one nightmare to another that with any luck he would not remember come morning.

TBC.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 5 :**

Sheppard tried to concentrate the next day, but thoughts of Lorne's team and their mission on the planet consumed him. _Would they get an audience with Malenda? Would they learn anything more of McKay? _

When he wasn't thinking of Lorne's team then it was McKay. _Was he hurting? What had they done to him? Did he think they had abandoned him? Did he still think they were coming for him? _These and a hundred other questions ran through his mind. The minutes turning like hours as the sun dragged through the sky.

Near noon, John went to the briefing with Carson, Zelenka and Elizabeth to discuss the upcoming mission and, of course,how McKay was alive when they had all marked him as dead.

He entered the briefing room with a coffee in his hand and a false smile on his face. John knew he was going to hate this, but it had to be done. He sat next to McKay's empty chair.

He used to sit opposite, far enough away not to earn a glare of disapproval from Elizabeth for being distracted into play by McKay instead of paying attention to the meeting at hand. Sitting opposite kept him out of trouble, but as big a personality as McKay was in the flesh, the shadow of his absence was larger and it dominated the room. He found if he sat in his usual seat, his eyes and thoughts were pulled to that empty chair rather than the conversations at hand.

John found it easier to ignore when he sat next to McKay's empty chair, as he was now. No one had even ventured towards it, never mind sat in. He didn't know what stopped others, only himself.

Dr Weir smiled encouragingly at him before starting the meeting with a nod to Zelenka and Beckett who were sat opposite him, two chairs apart from each other. Elizabeth invited Zelenka to start the meeting as she prompted him, "Please tell us your findings, Radek."

"Yes," Radek said, nodding decisively and pushing his glasses back up as he began. "I have been able to locate the planet using the address, but it is on the far side of this galaxy. We could get closer by using stargates but the final leg would still take two weeks by puddle jumper. It would take the Deadalus a month to do journey." He turned sadly towards John, "I am sorry the news in not better, Colonel."

Sheppard nodded, "We could still send a second contingent by puddle jumper, either as a scout, depending on Lorne's findings today, or to arrive after the rescue team in case we run into trouble. Would we be able to communicate with them during the final leg?"

"I think so, but I will need to check the planet to make sure there is nothing to interfere with our signal," Zelenka stated.

"It would be helpful if you could configure the puddle jumper sensors to detect the ATA gene. Would that be possible?" he asked, desperate to sound casual, as if it was something that had only just this minute occurred to him.

Zelenka nodded enthusiastically, eyes growing distant as his mind already began doing the necessary equations. He looked back up at Sheppard, eyes snapping back to the present, "Yes, Yes." He turned to the doctor on his right, "With a little help from Carson," and turning back to Sheppard, "and some time from the Colonel to test the prototype, I do not see why this cannot be done, Yes?"he queried, turning back to Carson.

"God, Yes!" Beckett exclaimed, accent heavy. "I'll be glad ta be doing something."

Sheppard was relieved. Once the technology had been developed it would be easier to incorporate into their long range sensors if McKay ran. Not that he mentioned that to Zelenka of course.

Elizabeth nodded, "Good. Did you find anything in the database? Or do you have any theories on what happened on that planet?"

Zelenka pushed his glasses up his nose, quickly glancing hesitantly at Sheppard before turning back to Elizabeth. "I have been over the database with a toothpick. I still cannot find anything, but I will not stop."

Sheppard suddenly realised the emotion that had been contained within that glance, recognising the guilt for what it was. "You weren't to know, Radek," he said softly and sincerely. "You made a scientific evaluation; you couldn't have known he was alive." It seems he wasn't the only one carrying a little guilt with him.

"It is good of you to say, Colonel, but the fact remains it was I who said he died and it was because of me that we did not look for Rodney and I will make my peace with him when we bring him home."

Sheppard nodded, knowing from personal experience that guilt cannot be killed by words, that only an act of recompense would dull its edge.

"You have a theory on what happened?" he asked, more to change the subject than anything else.

"I have many, but the one that makes the most sense is that it has always happened like this. The database details the procedure, exactly as you have described. They put the criminal in and 'poof'," his fingers came together and pushed apart, miming an explosion.

"I think that this machine transfers matter, and although it does not leave the normal power signatures, it is now clear that McKay did not die. I find it hard to believe that this race were just in the right position and took Rodney at that exact time, and although coincidences happen more often than people realise, I do not believe it was the case. I think that this was an automated system.

"I cannot believe that the ruins you described had the power to transfer him to the planet he now resides on, so there must be a planet closer, maybe even within that same system, that he was taken too and they in turn either took or sold him to his current captors. The important thing is that Rodney is alive, yes? We should understand that we may never know how and just be glad that it is, yes?"

"Aye lad, I for one don't care how, just so long as we get our Rodney back?" Carson said.

"He'll be back," Sheppard stated, looking at the empty chair to his right before looking back up at those in the room.

"Any other business?" Elizabeth asked, smiling.

"I have scenarios that I'd like Zelenka to look through and advise any fixes he has and any ideas for those he doesn't. Obviously, I think the ATA sensors and the database search should be a priority. Any information he can find on the guys who have Rodney can only help matters, but any other help he can give us for the rescue mission, or maybe assign scientists to the separate problems we think we may encounter?"

Zelenka was already nodding. Elizabeth called a close to the meeting and told Sheppard to report to her tomorrow morning with regards to the mission to visit the slave owner.

They all went their separate ways and Sheppard was once again forced to find something to distract him from his own thoughts. All he wanted to do was grab Ronon and Teyla and a puddle jumper and head out for the planet and rip it apart. He itched to be physically doing something and it was driving him mad.

Eventually, Lorne's team returned. They had a planet address and permission to visit in three days. Sheppard took the mission as his own, but without McKay he had to concede a place to Parrish, especially as the invite had been extended in his name.

It was decided that Parrish and Sheppard would pose as the potential buyers with Ronon and Teyla as their bodyguards, looking for another bodyguard for their esteemed leader. In view of the morals of this planet he had organised a second crew to follow in a cloaked jumper in case they encountered any problems.

Three days later they exited the Stargate on PXY-653. The second crew landed near the gate, remaining cloaked. Sheppard's team continued the short distance to the encampment, stopping just outside its perimeter.

This race seemed nomadic with eastern flair, bright tents of silken blues, purples and oranges edged in tassels. Their horses in a corral of ropes and stakes, strong

Stallions with glossy coats, snarling mist into the damp air. As they neared the first tents billowing in the cold breeze six guards appeared, dressed in trousers and tunics of natural fibres, overlaid with dark leather armour. They carried long intricately carved staffs of metal, topped with long blades that were curved and shone with deadly sharpness.

Parrish stepped forward, and to give him his due, he remained confident and sure as he spoke, "We come by invite to visit with Sangerra Malenda."

The six guards dipped their heads in unison and turned as one to lead them in silence amongst the tents. They stopped at a large one of orange silk, trimmed in purple and gold tassels. Four of the guards moved to stand against the front of the tent, two on each side of the entrance, the remaining two led them inside.

Sheppard and his team followed, moving past the guards when they stopped by the entrance. Large sheets of orange silk hung around the interior walls almost covering the heavier, thicker lining. This coupled with a large metal grate of embers, standing on a large metal disc, permeated the tent with warmth without being stifling.

Rugs and cushions layered the floor in sharp contrast to the damp dull atmosphere of the planet. Straight ahead of them, atop the largest and highest cushions of blue silk, sat a woman who looked as though she had stepped out of an Arabian Nights tale. She was dressed in yellow silk trousers and tunic with slits down the arms and thighs. The colour had been chosen to not only compliment the silks surrounding her, but also the copper skin shimmering beneath the slits in her clothes.

Her hair was thick and black and fell in a tied braid to curl around her neck and down her body to end in her lap. She had large dark eyes and although undoubtedly a beauty, there was a hard calculating edge to her.

To her right, in front of the cushions, there stood a single white man. He wasn't the athletic, muscular build that Sheppard had been expecting. In fact he didn't look like much at all on first glance and in a crowd you would probably have walked by him without a thought. He had brown hair and was dressed identical to the other guards, but with a leaner frame and once you noticed him, you saw the hard muscles beneath the pale skin, hard brown eyes that saw everything and yet showed nothing. There was a dangerous inflexibility about him that marked him as the bodyguard they had come to see.

Parrish stepped forward again, which gained the attention of the bodyguard. Parrish glanced at him before returning his gaze to the woman. "Sangerra Malenda?" he queried. She dipped her head slightly languid and graceful like a swan.

"I thank you for allowing us to visit with you and in answering our questions," he said. He obviously did not mention they had been expecting a man.

She smiled, "Please sit and eat with me." Sheppard and Parrish sat while Ronon and Teyla remained standing behind them. She clapped her hands and people flowed in with platters of food and jugs of wine, which were placed between them. Sheppard noticed that the bodyguard watched these just as closely. No one it seemed was above suspicion.

"What is it you wish to know?" she asked.

"Could you tell us about the auctions?" Parrish asked, hesitantly.

She nodded again before she spoke with musical tones. "The smaller auctions will be held first," she paused as she acknowledged the confused expressions on the team and changed tact to explain. "The ones that can't be conditioned to the same degree as Otho here, but still accept the voice command and can be used as required. The level of quality depicts its place in the auctions. For instance, the image on the auction notification will be deemed of the highest quality and will be in the last auction of the day."

"Really?" Parrish exclaimed and then tried to back track. "Erm, I mean, it's just that he doesn't look like much of a fighter."

"He will be by the time the auctions are staged," she replied.

Sheppard intervened. "You mentioned voice commands?" he asked as he reached for something that looked like a peach.

She turned to look at Sheppard with an appraising eye that made him thankful for the second crew. "Your purchase is conditioned to your voice so no-one else can command him." She picked up a knife and tossed it at her own bodyguard without even a glance. It sailed haphazardly but deadly towards the bodyguard who caught it deftly in one hand before Sheppard could even react. He just knew Ronon's eyebrows had done that Spock 'Impressive' thing.

"Otho," she stated as she reached for one of the peach things, "Burn yourself."

"Yes, my mistress," he replied, no inflection in his tone.

They watched him walk over to the grate and using the knife dug into the embers, pulling it back with hot coals balanced on the knife. He slanted the knife so the embers slid off the blade to fall into his waiting palm before he closed his fist on them. They watched in shocked silence as his face went from blank, to tightness around the eyes, to the tendons standing out in his neck, yet not a sound escaped his lips throughout.

Glancing between Otho, who was now grimacing in pain, and Sangerra Malenda, who was obliviously deciding what to eat next, Sheppard waited and waited for her to call a stop to this barbaric show. He was about to call an end to it himself when she spoke.

"That's enough, Otho." The embers dropped from his blistering hand, back into the grate. As Otho made his way back towards his mistress with the knife still clutched in his hand, Sheppard was deciding whether to intervene or not if Otho stabbed her, but when he reached his mistress he just placed the knife back on the platter and resumed his place without any hint of malice.

"As you can see, in addition to the voice command they also have their pain levels reduced so they can withstand more than most. They also have their fear levels reduced, but apparently they don't remove them completely or they just offer themselves for you too easily." She glanced at Otho, "That should only be a last option for them so they last longer."

Sheppard grinned wide and false. Inside his blood was boiling. "This voice commands. Can it override their previous loyalties and beliefs?"

"They have none," she responded, "They have no memories and therefore no ties. Everything they were before is simply overwritten," she said with a casual wave of her hand. "They are loyal to the voice pattern which is installed after you have purchased them." She smiled as she cast her eyes over them, believing this news would please them.

Sheppard smiled and nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. He felt sick. He was taking a long drink to bide his time while he pushed his emotions down before he spoke again. "Does he have any memories of the auction or the procedures?"

She furrowed her brow in confusion, "I don't know. I've never asked."

Parrish seemed to find his voice, "May we ask him?"

She seemed confused why they would want to know but luckily willing to indulge them, "If you want to."

Parrish looked at the bodyguard, "Otho? Can you tell us what you remember before the voice command?"

Otho bowed to his mistress before answering. His voice was rough, but Sheppard suspected that was due to lack of use. "My first memory, I was in cells with other people. They were taken one by one until there was only me. Finally, I was led from the cells to the arena above. I had to show the skills I had learnt and then led away to another room and placed on a table. They put this thing on my head when my mistress entered. Since then I have served only her."

Sheppard decided he couldn't follow this line of questioning any further and not kill everyone where they stood so he changed subjects, "What do you know about this race?" he asked.

"Very little," she said. "They keep to themselves even during the auctions, contact is minimal. According to my Grandfather, the auctions started during his time. At first, people tried to take the technology away from them, but it soon became clear this was a fool's ploy that only ended in death. Although they have no defenses they still retain an army of twenty like Otho here and that is more than enough to defeat any stupid enough to repeat the fools of history,"

The food was being cleared away. "Would you like a demonstration?" she asked, eager to show of her purchase.

Remembering the hot coals he decided on no, he had an uneasy feeling a 'demonstration' would involve Otho killing innocents and he knew himself and his team well enough to know they could not sit by and doing nothing. "Thank you, no. We have already seen enough to realise the quality," Sheppard said, trying to keep the disdain out of his voice. "It's easy to see why you would be proud to own one. If we could take your leave we really should be getting along," he turned to Parrish, trying to convey his need to leave now.

"Erm, actually, I do just have one more question?" Parrish said to Sheppard as he turned to Sangerra Malenda who, still preening from Sheppard's words, dipped her head. Still languid and graceful, but it reminded him more of a cobra than a swan now.

"You said he has no memory, yet he remembers his own name?" Parrish asked.

She gave a light laugh of silver bells, "Oh, that's not the name he was born too. You can name them whatever you like when you buy them."

Sheppard felt cold disgust and knew they had to leave now before he killed her. "Thank you for your time, Sangerra Malenda," he said as he stood, all but hauling Parrish to his feet at the same time. "We really do have to leave now," Sheppard smiled that same wide, false grin as they left.

The trip back to Atlantis was quiet but charged with anger and disgust. Ronon paced the entire journey. As they landed in the jumper bay, Sheppard finally spoke with a voice of hate and steel. "Once we've got McKay back we are going to visit with Sangerra Malenda again."

**Cont/d….**


	6. Chapter 6

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 6:**

The rain ran down McKay's face, droplets hanging heavy in his lashes. All ignored, all attention focused on the man in his grasp waiting for his answer. The man tried to push away from him, but with the tree at his back he had nowhere to go. "I… I don't know," he stammered, unable to take his eyes away from McKay's.

"You tracked me like an animal for over two weeks and you expect me to believe you don't know who I am?" McKay stated, the anger that was rising evident in his voice.

"I'm only the tracker," the man pleaded, "I was just told to track you, I was just following the orders of my superiors," he stressed, eyes wide with terror.

"Only following orders," McKay sneered. He didn't know why those words just made him angrier, but they did, "You led these soldiers here to kill me," he spat. Hate and disdain warring for precedence over his features. "Do you know _anything_ about me? About the person you led these soldiers here to kill without even asking why?"

"I just know that you escaped from the auction with no control. They… they said you were a danger," he said as his eyes were drawn to his friend Scansa, who was slumped limply against him. Death must have taken him silently while they talked as his eyes were now vacant, nothing left, life gone. The man pushed his head back against the tree with his eyes scrunched shut, "I don't want to die," he said, soft and desperate.

"Auction," McKay stated sternly, ignoring his pleas. "You were going to auction me!?" Indignation tempered the angry tones.

His eyes snapped open, he tried to explain. "It's what they do, they find people and make them new, give them a second chance, like… like Scansa."

Fury threatened to overwhelm McKay as he shouted at the man, "Two months of indescribable pain is making me new?" As he spoke his voice became softer, but somehow more deadly, "Two months of begging them to stop, of pleading to know why, what had I done. Two months of being ignored as if my pain was nothing. They almost broke me. I may not remember, but I know I never asked for that, no one would _ever_ be desperate enough to ask for that," he spat.

_Enough, this man knows nothing,_ McKay thought to himself, but he knew he couldn't leave the man alive, if he got free he could easily beat him back to the town. He needed them to think he was still out here, being tracked. He reached out and clasped his hands around the man's head. He bunched his muscles preparing for the sharp twist. Either that or the look in his eyes must have given him away because the man cried out. "No wait! I can lead you to them."

McKay paused, one hand coming away to tap out his thoughts. The man took this as a reprieve and continued, "I know where they live, where they eat. They can answer your questions," he said. It would be quicker once he reached the town, but he would have to keep him captive and there was always the chance he would escape, also it would slow him down.

He put his hands back on the man's head. "No, wait!" the man cried out. McKay looked into his face, pausing. The man took a ragged breath, now visibly falling apart. His body shaking as it was racked with stifled sobs, "I don't want to die," desperation echoed through him as tears sprang from his closed eyes.

McKay steeled himself against his inner voice as he bunched up his muscles and gave a sharp twist. Just a moment of bones crushing against each other, a moan of pain immediately stifled by death and yet the sounds echoed in the silence of the woods. A last cry against the violence.

"It was you or me, I had to choose me," he said softly as he let his hands fall free to his side, the man's head slumping against his chest as McKay released his grip. The rain ran over them unchecked and silence descended once again. He stood watching the empty shell that used to hold life till he chased it away with his own hands. This man had begged, just as he had once begged to know why, and like those men, McKay had ignored him. He didn't like this feeling inside, but logic left no other option that didn't invite failure, and he wasn't going to fail.

He was going to find the answers. The need was like a physical ache inside and no one was going to stand in his way. He cast a last glance at the dead man before turning and running back into the jungle to start back towards the town. As he jogged through the trees, part of his mind turned inwards. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of man he was before.

Did he always kill this easily? Had he always known how many ways he could take a man's life? The voice from deep inside said differently, but killing came so easily he thought maybe he had always ignored the voice inside. He wondered about who he left behind. No one had come after him that he knew of, did that mean there was no one or that they just didn't care enough to come for him?

He stopped by the cave he had found earlier and collected his meagre belongings. He stood at the entrance; the last time he had stood here three people had been alive, now they were dead and all by his hand. He gave a deep sigh and began his journey. The thoughts turned inwards again, he could never seem to stop his mind from turning.

What kind of man was it that touched no one and killed so easily and so well. There was a third option that filled him with dread, that those that did matter were right here with him. After all, he could walk past his own family and not know it. That he might have left them behind. He would rather think that he had been all alone in the universe than to think he had left someone he cared about in that place.

Thoughts go through his mind, trying to second guess answers he has no way of knowing and worrying because he's becoming suspicious of words that appear in his mind from nowhere. Are they his thoughts…or theirs? Are you reacting as you or as the person they made you to be? His mind asks. Can you even trust yourself?

He remembers when he first escaped, how the soldier hadn't even raised his gun. Had just ordered him back into his cell and had expected him to obey. The initial confusion when he just kept on advancing. The fear in the guard's eyes as he realised, too late, that he wasn't obeying. He thinks that's the scariest thing so far, the absolute faith the guard had that he would just obey without question. That he was _meant _to obey without question, to return to a life of pain because a stranger ordered him to.

He runs at a steady pace till nightfall. It took nearly two weeks to get here but by taking a direct route he can get back faster. He doesn't have to worry about being followed this time either, but even so, it will still take him a week to get back.

He knows the face he needs to find, it's etched into his brain with hate. He doesn't remember anything before, his first memory is waking up to pain with that face looking down at him, impassive and indifferent. The only sounds were his own screams, his pleas for a reprieve from the pain, all unheeded. Not denied, just ignored.

He sets some basic traps around him, he won't take any chances on his freedom now that he has it. He bunks down for the night, looking for an early start. Maybe, once he is out of the woods, he can travel longer into the night to get back quicker. He falls asleep with the beginnings of a plan in his mind, and maybe the odd indulgent dream of vengeance.

*********************

They sat around the table in the briefing room. "Colonel?" Weir said, in effect handing the meeting over to him.

"Elizabeth," he acknowledged with a nod as turned to look around the table at Zelenka, Carson, Ronon, Teyla and Lorne, who were also present. "We will have two cloaked jumpers, fully manned, to accompany us. I will go through first, Lorne and then Markham will follow, cloaking immediately on arrival." Sheppard returned his gaze to Elizabeth as he continued.

"Once through they will land by the gate until I have reached the town. By then Zelenka should have initiated the ATA sensors and then Lorne's shuttle, with Zelenka aboard, will begin scanning for McKay in a spiral pattern towards the town. Markham's jumper stays at the gate as back up. The jumpers will be fully manned but, given their ground troops, I want to avoid fighting on the ground, and it will be a last resort only. However, I am hoping that if we are able to flood a small area it will give us an advantage at the point of extraction."

Sheppard held himself upright and no smile graced his face. His sense of humour had long since deserted him. All thoughts bent towards bringing Rodney home. He turned to Zelenka, "How are you getting on with the ATA Tracker?"

"We should have a working prototype within days, if I could ask for your time again this afternoon for some more trials, Colonel?" Radek queried.

"Anything you need. Radio me when you're ready." He nodded to Zelenka who nodded back in return. Sheppard turned to Elizabeth, who smiled at them all.

"Mission approved. Let's bring Rodney home."

Sheppard and his team hadbeen trying to keep themselves occupied. They left the briefing room heading for different areas. Sheppard went with Lorne to finalise some details while Ronon and Teyla went to the gym together. Ronon spent day after day in the gym or running round the city. Teyla, with her thoughts constantly turning to Rodney, had found that meditating was unusually beyond her right now and had taken to joining him. When Sheppard wasn't working with Zelenka on the ATA Gene Tracker,

he also joined them.

During this time, Sheppard explained brain washing and the Stockholm syndrome and the procedures used to undermine them; trying to stimulate the strongest memories. How paranoia could become a major factor, and trust. Most of all they had to ensure that Rodney trusted them.

The days dragged, but eventually there was just one week to go. Sheppard was useless now, all thoughts inward looking for anything he might have overlooked. He ran with Teyla and Ronon, sparred with Teyla and Ronon, ate with Teyla and Ronon.

All his powers of denial concentrating on not letting that single thought in his head, that thought that could break him at any time with just the mere possibility. _What if we fail? What if he dies again? _Because the first time nearly broke him, he knows he won't survive that again.

The night before the mission, his team sat in the deserted mess in the early morning when Teyla had finally asked the question that kept them all awake at nights. "What if we fail, John?" her voice hesitant and her eyes moist as she looked up at him.

"We can't fail," Sheppard had replied sternly. "We won't… I…" he swallowed thickly. "We won't fail," Sheppard had continued voice swamped with emotion. _I can't watch him die a second time, _he thought, _I couldn't, not again._

"You are correct, John. We will not fail," Teyla repeated with false determination in her watery brown eyes.

Sheppard looked from Teyla to Ronon, "Whatever the cost," he said.

"Whatever the cost," they intoned together.

***************

McKay had been in town for two days and three nights. He didn't know if his face had been circulated so he kept out of sight, moving through the streets like a breeze.

He had found the auction complex on his first day and managed to locate a flat roof that overlooked the entrance all the employees used. He had food, drink and shelter and a good high view.

He watched the employees come and go and after three days he still wasn't used to the sight. He had expected these people to be hard faced and walking alone, shunned by others, for the monsters inside to be visible. But, these people left laughing and joking, belying the pain they inflicted, the poor souls they left behind as they joked and laughed their way home.

The first time he saw a wife and her children run to kiss and hold a man as husband and father he actually recoiled, taking a physical step back, unable to fathom anybody being that close to these people and not seeing the darkness inside. Yet, he couldn't take his eyes from the man's hand as it rested gently on the fragile face of the blonde haired child as they smiled at each other.

Suddenly he could feel the phantom weight of hands on him again, see the hard indifference in their eyes as they hurt him again and again. In the end he had to turn away, he pulled his arms around himself as he sank to the floor, shaking with emotions. _Never again - Never again would they lay a hand on him. _He stared ahead as his face became grim and his eyes shone like diamonds, every fibre tense in anger and hatred. _Never again._

He was starting to consider that the man was not at work or that he slept inside as he watched the workers arrive for another morning. Then he saw a face in the crowd. The face disappeared and reappeared amongst the others, but McKay's eyes never left him, eyes like gimlets, he tracked the face in the crowd as if all others had faded away.

If he was going to succeed he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him, but even he wasn't prepared for the fury that consumed him. It was fortunate he had chosen to watch the workers from a height because he was sure if he had been on ground level no force on earth would have been able to stop him from walking up to the man and killing him where he stood. Rage burned through him as he felt the same feelings of helplessness and pain this man had inflicted resurface.

He knew he couldn't follow the man inside the building and that he would have to wait for him, but this was a good thing. It would give him time to become master of his emotions again. He could not allow anger to get the better of him.

He would wait and follow the man home where he would have all night to get his answers and his revenge. He hoped the man lived alone, a prospect that had not even occurred to him before he saw the family greeting yesterday, convinced no one would willingly share their lives with these people. He would just have to take this one step at a time and hope events played out in his favour.

He spent the day controlling his emotions and towards the end of the day he made his way down to ground level. He embraced the shadows, watching and waiting. As the man left he smiled and waved farewell to a co-worker before going separate ways. McKay, dressed in clothes he had stolen, mingled with the workers, keeping his head down but never taking his eyes from the man in front of him.

He watched the man's back as he followed him through the streets, thinking how easy it would be to end it all here. He could just walk up behind him and whisper coldly in his ear, "I came back," before he slipped a knife between his ribs and another across his throat. The images ran through his hate filled mind in glorious Technicolor, but he needed the answers to those questions that burned inside him, the need to know overrode even his hatred, so he followed, silently, and played out many deaths in his head.

On the outskirts of the town the man stopped at a white bungalow, sat in a small plot of land and surrounded by trees and bushes. McKay watched him enter and waited for the sounds of conversation. When he heard nothing, he checked the street was empty before moving into the garden and stood amongst the trees watching.

As night came, lights burned in the houses around them. McKay stood in the dark at the edge of the light as it spilled from the bungalow. He watched the man move around his house and as the man settled down to do some reading McKay moved out. Silently and deadly he moved through the garden and into the house without a sound to betray him. He actually stood behind the man, watching him pour over the papers in front of him. He moved his foot so it scuffed on the patterned carpet.

The man looked up, startled at the noise. His eyes widened and McKay saw fear in them as he moved round to face him. At last a reaction, he smiled slowly. "Who am I?" he said softly and deadly.

The man swallowed hard and then with false cheer, he exclaimed, "Thank god, you came back to us." He stood, putting a hand on McKay's shoulder, leading him to the sofa, "we were so worried about you."

"Take you hands of me," McKay stated, hard as steel and just as sharp. The man lifted his hands immediately and sat down on the sofa. "Please, sit down."

He was so confused by the unexpected greeting he was already sitting down before he came to his senses. "So worried you sent men to kill me?" McKay asked as he turned to face the man on the sofa.

"Not to kill you, to bring you back where you'd be safe," the man said with an easy smile. "How much do you remember?" he asked.

"I remember pain," he replied, and as his voice dropped heavier, "I remember your face."

"Well, you knew about the pain when you asked me to help you, but I don't suppose you remember that, now why don't I…."

"Who am I?" McKay interrupted sternly.

"What?" the man asked.

"My name, Goddammit. What is my name?" He snarled as he snaked a hand out to rest against the man's neck, running a thumb heavily down his throat, over his adam's apple, the threat obvious.

"Tomas," the man said quickly, his voice pitched high in fright. He swallowed before expanding, "Tomas Retterick." McKay could feel the pulse point behind his ear beating fast. He turned the name around in his mind. _Nothing._

"Tell me about myself. Why did I ask for this? Where am I from?" He leant in a little closer. "Tell me everything." He kept his voice level, tried not to think about how easy it would be to just tighten his grip.

"It's a long story, why don't I…." the man started as he began to stand up. McKay applied pressure to bring him back down onto the settee as he spoke.

"I don't think so. We have all night so why don't you start at the beginning?"

The man nodded, "Sure Tomas, anything you say. You come from the Adzere region to the South." He looked hesitantly at McKay. "You killed some people there in an accident and you felt guilty so you came to us. We're able to write over memories and we will find you work that put's money back into the social structure of our society. You wanted to pay penance, but the guilt held you back. This procedure is normally only for criminals, you begged me to put you into the program. I told you about the pain, you said it would be your penance.

"You were taking the treatment perfectly, one of the best in our history. You soaked up the new information like a stoarka and took commands well. You were going to be our most prized, but then the commands stopped taking effect and you became confused and disorientated. We thought we had fixed the problem when you broke out. I'm afraid you killed again, Tomas."

"That name means nothing to me," Rodney said.

"No, Tomas. It's all or nothing," the man said easily. "Given time your memories would surface again without further treatment and you will need the final process to contain them completely. I can't stress how much you wanted this, how much you wanted to forget. It's still not too late, I think we can still help you."

Rodney had been hoping for more. He had thought his name was important enough to him, that it would be the key to open the doors to the places he couldn't reach. He had imagined a flood of memories at the sound of his name, things slotting into place, finally knowing who he was.

He wasn't sure if he believed this man or not, but he hoped even if he was lying there would be a basis of truth hidden amongst the lies, so he pushed for more. "So, I came here alone? There is no one I know here as well?" he asked.

"No, Tomas. You came to us alone, you never mentioned anyone," came the quiet reply.

Relief flooded through his system. He had not realised to what degree he had dreaded leaving someone behind. "Tell me about the accident, about the one I caused that killed people."

"Tomas," the man said gently.

"Tell me," Rodney said, soft and deadly.

The man shrugged slightly, encumbered still by Rodney's hand resting on his shoulder and around his throat. "I only know what you told me. You were a soldier and there was an explosion that you had caused. The other soldiers with you were killed. Out of your whole team only you alone survived and it ate away at you until you had to do something about it."

He had lots of images of explosions in his head, but who knew if any of those were the one he spoke of or just an image linked to the word explosion. But when the man said 'team' he got flashes, a man in black with black hair, a man in leather with dreadlocks, a pretty redhead, the images flashing so fast that he couldn't even see their faces and couldn't bring them back no matter how hard he tried.

"You okay, Tomas?" the man asked gently.

"What's your name?" Rodney said, glaring at him.

"Milton," he said. "Milton Letts," he expanded.

_Nothing._ No flashes, no sounds, no memories.

"One of the men in the woods said you were going to auction me off," McKay said.

"Yes Tomas. All the information we gave to you is so we can place you in the auction. We were training you to be a bodyguard. You said serving the rest of your life protecting someone would be appropriate." The man's voice sounding patient.

Rodney knew he could see fear underneath the smiles, feel his pulse beating under his thumb, but that didn't mean the man wasn't telling the truth. Even if they used to be the best of friends, this man knew that McKay did not know that and that he had been trained to kill. Even if he was telling the truth a part of him would still be scared by the situation. McKay just didn't know.

The voice inside was shouting _go, go, go _but he had ignored it before. He still didn't know who to trust more, the man or the voice inside.

"Whens the auction?" he asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon," the man said. "We can still help you, if you will let us, Tomas." He stressed with a pleading voice, "Let us help you to forget, Tomas, let me help you to pay penance for those who died."

Rodney couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness about that. _Pay penance for those who have died._ Something about that did seem to connect somewhere in the darkness where he couldn't go. Maybe, just maybe, that is what he had wanted all along.

TBC.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 7 :**

That phrase kept going round in his head. _Pay penance for those who died._ Something seemed to click with those words, a need that connected to the part his mind denied him.

Maybe he _had_ asked for this. He looked at the man sat next to him. "I need time to think," he said. "I don't know if I should believe you or not and I need to put you somewhere safe so I can think things through."

"But…" Milton started.

McKay interrupted him immediately. "I'm sorry, but what part of that did you think was open to discussion." McKay dropped his voice so it had a hard edge. "I will put you somewhere you can't escape while I think things through. You show me to a room or we do a tour of this place, but we do it now and we do it in silence."

He felt Milton swallow thickly as he was removing his hand from around the man's neck, moving it to his bicep. He stood up, easily hauling Milton to his feet. Milton nodded and pointed to a door behind McKay. Rodney opened the door cautiously, keeping a tight hold on Milton as he did so. It was a bathroom with a small window. He looked an assessing eye over Milton's frame and glanced back at the window. He estimated it was safe and he ushered Milton into the room.

Milton walked to the middle of the room and turned to face McKay with a pale, nervous face. "Stay here, I'll bring you some bedding," McKay said as he closed the door. He pulled one of the chairs over and wedged it under the handle before searching the house for two sets of bedding. Returning to the main room, he left one set on the sofa. He removed the chair, pushing the bedding through with his foot before closing and securing the door again.

He lay on the sofa with his feet nearest the bathroom so he could watch the door. He pulled the blanket over him and squirmed into the pillow until he was comfortable. He lay staring at the ceiling thinking things through.

Things _had_ clicked. He knew that phrase meant something to him, even if he couldn't remember what. _Penance for their deaths_, it touched somewhere deep inside,of that he was sure. Then there was the flash at the mention of 'team'. His heart had clenched painfully during that. He had to admit, judging by his reactions, there had been some truth in Milton's words. What bothered him was that if he reacted to those, why not his name?

He basically had two options. He could just leave and wait for the memories to resurface and, if Milton had told the truth, he could come back and try again, or he could go back to that place, the place that made him afraid. Maybe, they could reverse it and then he'd know and if he wanted to he could start again. The idea of wandering for however long until the memories returned, not even knowing his name, scares him. What if they never came back?

This was where the answers were, here and now. He would have to go back. He lay awake for a long time turning things over in his mind. Eventually he fell asleep and he dreamt. His dreams were snatches of colour, flashes of images, but when he woke he had a name.

"Ronon," he murmured. It meant nothing but he felt the name deep inside, like a talisman, making him feel safe and protected. "Ronon," he repeated to himself, rolling the sounds around his mouth, and he knew whatever the cost he had to know who he was. He rose and let Milton out of the bathroom and told him he was going back.

Today, one way or another, he would get his answers.

*************************

Teyla and Ronon joined Sheppard in the jumper. Ronon sat behind him, lounging back on the chair whilst Telya sat sideways in the co-pilot's seat, watching him perform the pre-flight checks.

Sheppard radioed Carson, telling him he had ten minutes to finish kitting his medical supplies and be at the jumper, his voice tight. He turned back to the controls, his efficient hands normally glided through the checks, but the negative thoughts moving through his mind made his heart clench and his body stutter. His hands twitching in response as his mind supplied Technicolor images of just how bad this mission could go.

The jumper was silent, charged with a nervous air, and he could feel Teyla watching him. Teyla raised her gaze from his hands to his face. "We won't fail him again."

Sheppard looked down at the console, pushing down the negative thoughts and the emotions they brought. He nodded decisively, "Whatever it takes," he said.

"Whatever it takes," Ronon and Teyla repeated.

Sheppard nodded again and tried to lose himself in the pre-checks, connecting to the jumper and tried not to think about returning to Atlantis alone.

Carson came bustling in and started stowing his supplies and then came to the forward section. He must have sensed something in the air and he looked at each of them before taking his seat. He clapped his hands together and said with false cheer, "Well, last chance to back out. You sure we want that loud, egotistical, sarcastic scientist back?"

Sheppard turned to him with a grin, "Yeah, we're sure. Zelenka just doesn't bite half as well," and if his eyes were a little bright and the smile a little brittle no one mentioned it.

Carson smiled wide. "What are we waiting for then? Let's go get our Rodney." The air changed from one of agitation to one of anticipation. Sheppard pushed the last few command buttons and then radioed Lorne and Stackhouse to check they were ready.

He started up the engines and flew into the Stargate room. He radioed Elizabeth. "Jumper one ready to depart."

"You have a go, John. Bring him back to us," she said softly, the gentle smile sounding in her voice.

"Will do," Sheppard said and he flew into the Stargate to exit on the other side, flying up and checking the sensors. "Atlantis, all clear. Send 'em through," he said into his radio.

"Acknowledged, Colonel, jumper four departing now," came Chuck's voice. Jumper four came through and immediately cloaked. The HUD detected it moving to the left of the Stargate as it landed.

"Jumper Eight departing now, Colonel. Good luck, Atlantis out," Chuck said.

"Acknowledged, Atlantis. Radio check in three hours," Sheppard said as he watched jumper eight appeared and cloaked. He disconnected from Atlantis and changed channels as he watched Lorne's jumper on the HUD as it fell into place beside him.

"You ready major?" Sheppard checked.

"Yes, Sir. Zelenka says he will have the ATA sensors up and running in ten minutes, sir."

"Good. Maintain radio silence unless you have results. Wait here till the program is up and running, you don't want to miss anything on your way in. Sheppard out."

"Sir," Lorne acknowledged.

Sheppard nodded to Teyla, took a deep breath and then swept towards the town that was visible on the horizon. They landed on the outskirts and entered on foot. They walked down a dusty road with bungalows down one side and trees on the other. No-one they saw even looked at them twice or stopped to greet them. "You'd think they'd have signs or someone to show you the way," Sheppard said curiously, looking around him as they walked.

"Maybe we're early," Carson suggested.

Sheppard was watching two men walking down the garden path but not really paying attention to them, "Was there a time on that leaflet?" he asked as he turned to Teyla. He watched her fishing inside her tac vest when he heard Carson in a soft breathless voice, "Bloody hell."

Both Teyla and he turned immediately to see Carson and Ronon stood still looking past them. They both turned round to follow their gaze. The two men were just stepping from the garden path onto the road. The one who closed the gate had his back to them and a hand placed on his friend's arm. As he clicked the gate shut he glanced over his shoulder at them. Sheppard just stood, stock still, watching Rodney walk away from him.

Time stood still. His mind was numb, eyes wide, breathing almost non-existent as if a sound could burst this bubble and take Rodney away again. In all his planning he hadn't realised how it would feel to see him alive again. Like hitting Mach for the first time, an assault on the body turning to pure joy as it replaced shock.

McKay stopped and straightened. _The Epiphany stance, _and it was all so shockingly familiar. "Rodney," he gasped, barely enough sound to make it past his lips as they morphed into a dopey grin, his eyes bright.

***********************

McKay glanced over his shoulder. He walked in front of Milton and round to his other side, turning Milton as he did so, so they were both facing the four strangers in the street. He felt joy, insurmountable joy at seeing these four strangers, but he had no idea why. He took a step forward, dragging Milton with him so they stood only four paces apart. He looked at the man in black. These people knew him. He could see Milton flicking glances between him and the four strangers.

Looking at them suspiciously, Rodney was about to say something when the large one with dreadlocks came forward with speed, his arms open wide but McKay wasn't taking any chances. He swept out the man's legs as he pulled the kitchen knife from where he had stowed it in his back. He slipped his hand from Milton's bicep to his wrist as he fell into a crouch, putting him in reach so he could place the knife and the man's throat. The man on the floor looked totally shocked.

The dark haired man, who had just been staring at him, dropped the goofy smile he had been wearing and suddenly took a step forward with his arms half raised. "No, wait." He looked down at the man on the floor. "Damn, Ronon, what did I say about sudden movements?"

The man on the floor still looked slightly confused. "It's McKay." He gave a small shrug as if the knife at his throat was a million miles away and not causing a dent in his skin.

"You don't want to do this. He's your friend. We're all your friends."

Rodney interrupted, looking down at the man, "Ronon? Your name is Ronon?"

The man looked confused and that bled into his voice, "Yeah, McKay."

Rodney realised. Not Ronon McKay. _He_ was McKay. The name slotted into place. Rodney rose in a smooth fluid motion as he pivoted on his foot to face Milton. His hand moved from his wrist back to his bicep, bringing his other hand up to put the knife against the man's throat.

"You said my name was Tomas. Who am I?" his voice cold as ice and full of promise, eyes like lazers.

"I don't know. I swear, I don't know." Milton was pale and sweating, his voice pleading.

Rodney could feel Ronon rising behind him, but he didn't react to him, knowing instinctively that he wouldn't have to. The man in black appeared next to him. "You're Rodney McKay. Doctor Rodney McKay. This is not you, Rodney," as he indicated the knife, but smart enough not to reach for it, "not this. You're not a killer, Rodney."

All the answers he had been looking for all this time clambered to flood his mind and he shut them out, only fury got through, riding a wave of heat through his body. "I am now. I'm what they made me to be."

"He deserves it, but I can't let you do this. I can't let you become like me. Not in cold blood, Rodney. Please let me take the knife." Sheppard held his hand out open near the knife.

"Touch it and you'll die by it." McKay swore. "Two weeks of making my way back here after killing the six soldiers they sent to murder me and all I could think about was finding this man and finding out who I was. He told me my name was Tomas and I believed him," McKay said, the derision at himself for believing obvious in his voice as he jerked the knife forward slightly. A small drop of blood ran down the blade of the knife, some running off the edge to run down the man's neck into the collar of his shirt.

"I was gonna let him take me back to _that _place. If I hadn't seen you I'd be there now, no second chances…just pain…hurt." He took a stuttering breath, tears that remembered that pain mingled with the hard hate in his eyes.

"Rodney," Sheppard whispered his voice thick with emotion.

McKay shook his head violently, knife twitching in his hand. Milton Letts didn't move, eyes flicking between Rodney and John, the man who might kill him and the man who might save him.

"They would have confined my mind without a thought. I remember him," McKay's face distorting in hate as the knife steadied in his hand. "He hurt me without a care." He turned to John as he continued, anger burning in his eyes, in his words, "he didn't even notice me and still he…still he…." He thrust his chin out as he continued, "all the way here I swore I would find him and no-one would stand in my way, not even you."

He continued talking as he slowly looked back towards Milton, intending to finish this here and now, "Nothing will stand between me and this man's death."

There was a blur of colour and then suddenly bright red, flowing and turning dark. Milton collapsed as his knees buckled, leaning to the side, only McKay's grip on his arm kept him from falling to the ground. His screams muted by bubbling blood, gurgling from the mortal wound in his throat. Hands scrabbling to cover the wound, fingers slick and slipping in the blood as it raced from his body, taking life with it.

Rodney released his grip, letting Milton fall to the ground discarded as he spun, extending his arm to hold the knife at Ronon's throat, the muscles in his arm shaking with anger that suffused him. "I wanted to kill him, that was _my _right," he shouted in fury, spittle flying from his lips, eyes burning with a fire.

He saw Carson rush towards the fallen man, saw Sheppard's arm as it appeared in his peripheral vision to land on Carson's shoulder, halting his progress. He heard John's soft voice, "It's too late, Doc. He's already gone."

Rodney never took his eyes off Ronon, who stood impassive, knife hanging limp by his side as the blood slipped from it to fall into the ground. He was calm when he replied. "Sheppard was right. When you're back you'll hate yourself. Even though he deserved it, it won't sit right in here," he tapped his heart, "for you, like it does for me."

Quieter and without the heat, he said softly but sternly, "It was my right."

Ronon nodded and watched him silently. Sheppard's voice was soft behind him. "We came to take you home, Rodney. Why don't you put the knife down and we can go home." He suddenly raised his hand to his ear, "Yes, he's with us now. Get Stackhouse to radio Atlantis, we're coming home soon. Maintain position in case we run into trouble." He turned back to Rodney, "Atlantis is waiting for you, Rodney," he said softly.

Rodney took a deep stuttering breath that was almost a sob. _Love. _Colours of blue, joy, pain, but throughout it all, Love. "Atlantis," he whispered his voice full of awe.

Sheppard gave a half laugh and grinned open and wide, his eyes full of emotion, "Yes Rodney. Let's go home."

Rodney looked into Ronon's face, searching his own feelings. Talisman was right, this man made him feel safe, protected. He glanced at Teyla and felt the same with an underlying sense of peace. When he thought about the two men behind him he got all these feelings, but something more, indefinable, like finding something inside you that you hadn't realised you'd lost.

Sheppard moved round to his side, checking the street was still empty before he spoke, "Rodney? It won't be long before we're discovered."

_Decision time. _He still wasn't a hundred percent trusting, but he had more memories back and he had learnt from his earlier mistakes. He would trust his inner voice this time around and it said he could trust these people, so with a final glance at Ronon, he lowered the knife, but kept hold of it as he turned back to Sheppard. "Take me home."

The man smiled, shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. "Come on, jumper's this way. I'd feel better if we run. We've been lucky so far and apparently they have an army of soldiers trained like you which I'd rather not meet."

McKay changed into an easy run, which caused Sheppard to raise his eyebrows. As they ran, McKay could feel Sheppard constantly glancing at him with a goofy grin, the open joy clearly visible on his face; it made him uncomfortable. "Are you aware that smiling like that makes you look like an idiot?" He shook his head in exasperation when Sheppard barked in laughter, sounding light and full of joy, but strangely he also seemed to detect a measure of relief in it too.

He stopped when Sheppard stopped. He had no idea what a jumper was but he could see for himself there was no vehicle of any kind in sight. He spun so he could keep them all in his view, tightening his grip on the knife. He'd been duped, they had just lured him out here alone and he had followed blindly again. Anger started to flow again, mostly at himself for being so stupid for trusting so easily. "There's nothing here," he said challengingly. His eyes flicked to the man in black as he raised his arm with a smile. Rodney realised he was pressing a button on something in his hand but before he could react Sheppard had lowered his hand and was nodding behind him with a grin.

Rodney looked at him suspiciously and after checking the location of everybody, quickly glanced over his shoulder. An oblong box sat there, trying to look as if it had always been there, but he knew differently because nothing had been there. Just wide open fields, _ooh that means something. Damn it! Not now. _ He looked back at Sheppard, "Don't tell me, it's all done with mirrors?"

Sheppard smiled as he walked past him to the jumper, talking as he went. "It's called a cloak. I'm sure it will come back to you soon, Rodney."

Rodney turned and followed him, he watched as Sheppard lowered the back hatch and walked in. He peered inside as he stood on the ramp and noticed as the jumper cloaked again, making it look like a tunnel hovering in the air. He heard a claxon and turned towards the noise. Ronon was also looking back to the town as Teyla loped up next to Carson, who used the short reprieve to catch his breath.

Ronon turned and all three approached the jumper. Rodney moved through the jumper to join Sheppard. He hesitated on the threshold to the forward section but moved to sit next to Sheppard when he heard Ronon behind him. "They've set off an alarm," Ronon said to Sheppard as he took the seat behind him.

Sheppard never took his eyes off the console in front of him, hands flying over the commands leaving lights of brilliant blue in their wake, mesmerising to watch. "I've already cloaked the jumper. We should be off the planet before they've even mobilised their security."

Rodney noticed a change in the light of the cabin and turned to see the hatch closing as Teyla turned to walk past Carson, who was bustling through the storage in the back, to sit behind him. She reached out to touch him and he flinched back, he watched pain flash through her eyes as she slowly drew her hand back. "We missed you, Rodney," her eyes shone with tears but remained unshed. "We missed you very much."

He nodded, still watching her face. He didn't know what to say, still unsure of his feelings. He turned to Sheppard, effectively ending the conversation. "Thought you said we were in a hurry."

Sheppard glanced at him, expression unreadable, before reaching out to take the joy stick. "We are," he said as the jumper rose. He raised a hand to his ear again. "Stackhouse, dial the Alpha site and move through. Lorne take up the rear." As he spoke they swept away, the ground almost a blur beneath them.

"Alpha site? Is that where Atlantis is?" he asked.

"No, these people managed to take you from right under out noses and we're still not sure how. We don't want them to know where Atlantis is. Carson's going to scan you to make sure they didn't put a tracking device in you and to make sure you're okay. Once we get to the Alpha site and Carson says it's okay, we'll go through to Atlantis."

As he was speaking, they were approaching a stone ring of water. The water was rippling as if a stone had been thrown into its epicentre. They were heading straight for it. He remembered it, a vision of a plume of white water, like smoke. A metal ramp leading up to it with a man in a black cloak but made of light. These three people walking into water and himself following, except it wasn't water. Numbers started flowing, beautiful and intricate and peaceful. They sung to his soul and he never wanted them to stop.

He was distracted by Carson approaching with something in his hand and the numbers fell away, leaving him empty. Carson raised his hand towards Rodney who reached out and grabbed his wrist, glaring into his eyes with a clear challenge. Carson's eyes grew huge but as they moved from his captured wrists to Rodney's eyes they softened. "Nae, lad. I'd never hurt ya."

Just then they went through the Stargate, he felt a displacement, a feeling he couldn't identify and then realised they were somewhere else, but the threat was in here so he didn't take his eyes off Carson. A word appeared in his mind and he repeated it, "Voodoo."

He heard the others snort in laughter, smiles appearing on their faces as Carson harrumphed in indignation, but his eyes were bright and the corners of his mouth curled up, dimples appearing in his cheeks. It was confusing, trying to read these people. "Aye, Rodney. Trust you ta remember that."

"I remember. Voodoo's a bad thing. Voodoo has needles in it and I don't like needles." The memory that was vivid in his mind must have bled through his eyes because Carson's face was full of pity and compassion and it hurt because he would have given anything to have seen that just once during those months alone, to know someone, somewhere cared that he was in that much pain.

The others weren't laughing anymore. Sheppard was looking at him with an intense stare of compassion mixed with anger that lit up his eyes, Ronon had the same stare. He didn't need to look at Teyla to know she'd have the same look. He wasn't sure if the anger was at him, but he didn't think so. Carson's voice was soft when he spoke and it made Rodney's heart clench to hear the caring voice, "No needles, Rodney. I promise. This is just a scan. I won't even touch you until you say it's okay too."

Rodney saw Sheppard clench his jaw and swallow his emotions, his eyes bright as he blinked away tears and Rodney felt lost amongst this compassion he could feel flooding from these strangers. Like drowning, it washed over him and left him confused and disorientated. He just nodded towards Carson ignoring the compassion in his eyes.

The understanding and feelings he had craved over those first two months, he now finds overwhelming and uncomfortable. Carson cleared his throat and proceeded to point the scanner to Rodney's head and gradually lowered it. Rodney could see the blue light on the device lighting up and he watched it suspiciously. When it passed eye level he peered over the top, trying to read what it said, curiosity overriding caution and suspicion receding and ebbing away.

His curiosity seemed to bring out bittersweet smiles to the remainder of the crew. Carson turned and told Sheppard it was all clear. Rodney flicked his eyes to Sheppard as he moved his hand to his radio. "Okay, all clear. Stackhouse, dial Atlantis."

Rodney turned back to Carson as Sheppard took the controls and the jumper lifted off the ground, heading for the water again. "What's it say?" he asked curiously as he nodded to the device in Carson's hand.

"It says you don't have any foreign bodies in you. Once we get you back to Atlantis we can do a full scan and see if there's anything holding back your memories and if there is anything we need to fix. You're healthy, Rodney. In fact, you're healthier now than you were before… well, the last time we saw you, so we can do this at your pace, Rodney. I'll explain everything I'm doing and make sure you're comfortable, okay?"

Rodney nodded, still trying to peer at the display. He felt that same displacement feeling again, but didn't fully realise what it was as he replied to Carson. "Milton said the memories would come back slowly if he didn't fix it."

Ronon growled softly in the background and he noticed Sheppard's body tensing out of the corner of his eye but he ignored them as Carson asked, "Did he say how long it would take?"

Rodney shook his head and that's when he noticed the view. This time they had appeared _inside_ a building. The jumper had already lifted up and he saw people craning to see into the jumper as it lifted out of sight. He felt trepidation, still second guessing his choice to trust these people based on an inner voice. He felt trapped with no idea how to get out and he could feel panic rising. He reached out a hand to the console as they landed. When it lit up he retracted his hand as if burnt.

He looked at Sheppard with a curious expression on his face and then reached out tentatively and touched the console again. It lit up and made him feel safer to know he might be able to operate the jumper if he needed to escape. He looked back at Sheppard to find him watching with a soft smile. He nodded encouragingly at McKay, who smiled hesitantly back before looking down at the lit console.

He turned his head at the noise to see the rear hatch lowering and Ronon moving to stand on the ramp and glare into the space beyond. Carson was finishing up collecting his supplies and was just closing the last case. Sheppard and Teyla rose together and he flinched back, feeling cornered. "It's okay, Rodney," Sheppard said softly, "No one will hurt you here. I swear, you're safe now."

Rodney roved over Sheppard's face with his eyes, looking for anything that would give him away, but all he saw was compassion and honesty and maybe a small amount of guilt which he didn't understand, but he had been fooled before. He nodded at him, but still watched warily. Teyla nodded to Sheppard, with a slight tilt of her head, "I'll go and make sure the way to the infirmary is clear."

Sheppard nodded. Rodney watched her go in silence, he peered out the front of the jumper, but only seeing other jumpers he turned back to peer down the length of the jumper, "Are you ready?" Sheppard said, reaching for his elbow.

Rodney flinched, but allowed him to leave his hand where it was. He nodded and walked through the dark interior of the jumper and out into the light, but the feel of Sheppard's hand on him was like a burn. He felt mild panic that he allowed them to put their hands on him, that they were going to hurt him like the others hurt him, feeling the phantom weight of hands on him again. In the end he couldn't stand it anymore and had to remove his elbow from Sheppard's loose hold. Sheppard let him without a word, but he noticed the man's body tense. The voice inside said he should trust them and he was trying, but it was so hard, there was so much at stake.

Ronon stood still nearby, just watching him. Rodney glanced at him, nodded and then continued cataloguing everything around him, looking for a way out just in case.

He could only see one entrance, the one that Sheppard had been leading him to. He headed towards that, keeping a mental map of where he was, where everybody else was in relation to him. They all kept their distance, leaving him a comfort zone and allowing him to move at his own pace. Sheppard was the nearest within easy reach. He didn't increase or decrease the space between them, comfortable with what they had.

He walked through the empty hallway, looking at the walls with curiosity, letting his fingers ghost their surface feeling something akin to recognition but not quite there. The hallway opened into a wide room with the stone ring on the opposite side. Curiosity took over the other instincts and he crossed the floor to get a closer look. He reached out a hand to feel the cold stone, run his hand over the lowest chevron.

Like a caress, his fingertips moving in and out of the grooves, he felt a bond to this thing as if it were alive. A well of emotions he couldn't begin to sort out, and in the end he had to turn away, mind muddled with thought, images and emotions too many to decipher.

He turned to find Sheppard watching him with that same soft smile on his face. The emotions when he looked at them were becoming cleaner, sharper. Trust, safe and predominantly an underlying peace when they were close, which was confusing, as the strongest snatches of memory were full of pain, hurt and vulnerability. His instinct said to stand back and trust no one, but the inner voice said to trust, believe and give everything. The inner voice had been right so far, so he followed it, but instinct was instinct and he couldn't help looking for the lie, and being wary till he found it.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 8 Iss2;**

Rodney turned away from Sheppard to look around the room and froze. There were people crowding along the balcony with smiling faces and their eyes were full of relief and hope. Teyla stood halfway down a flight of steps keeping them back, and he thanked her silently from the bottom of his soul. Just looking at these people from a distance he felt a weight of responsibility to protect that almost physically dragged him down, that weight of hope focused on him.

A small man with wild hair and glasses went to move past Teyla. She placed a hand on his forearm and her gentle voice carried over to him. "I'm sorry, Radek. He is not ready yet."

The small man looked from Teyla to him, eyes roving over his body, looking for injuries and finally coming to rest on his face, locking eyes with him. Rodney watched him warily, saw the sadness in him as he nodded slowly and turned away. As Rodney watched him, the weight seemed to lighten a little. He wondered briefly who he was before he realised Sheppard was approaching him slowly. "Let's go, shall we?" he said softly. "You ready, Rodney?"

Rodney nodded and Sheppard gently herded him to a corridor on the other side of the room, where Carson was waiting with soft smiling eyes. Avoiding eye contact with the people on the balcony as they watched him, he walked under them and away down the corridor, looking behind him at Sheppard regularly to see that he was keeping his distance, even while a part inside was just checking he was still there.

He followed Carson into the infirmary by a couple of paces. There was a woman waiting there with a red top, grey trousers and reddish brown hair. One arm across her torso supporting her elbow as her other hand rested on her shoulder against her throat. She exhaled when he entered, a smile blossoming on her face and her eyes bright, "Rodney."

She looked at him with such fondness and compassion, her smile stretching. "I'm Elizabeth, Lorne told me everything. Don't worry, Rodney, we'll figure this out. You'll be back to yourself before you know it."

"This way, Rodney," Carson said gently, as he led him over to a machine. "This is a full body scan. I need you to lie here and stay as still as you can while it scans you. It will take two minutes, are you okay with that, Rodney?"

He swallowed, pushing down the apprehension, telling himself if they were going to do anything they would have done it by now. He nodded. "It's up to you if you keep the knife, it shouldn't affect the scan," Carson said.

He looked down in surprise at the knife still in his hand. He looked at them all before carefully placing the knife on the bedside table and climbing onto the bed. He lay down and looked up at Carson, who smiled encouragingly.

He watched as Carson moved over to a console with a large display on it. As he activated it, Rodney watched the machine scan him, trying to remain still, trying to keep panic at bay. "Okay, Rodney. That's it." The head moved out of the way and Rodney sat up, swinging his legs over the side. Carson was looking over the scan on the display.

Sheppard moved to stand next to Carson, "Well, Doc? You find anything?"

He heard Carson sigh, full of regret, "nothing. There is a slight swelling of the hippocampus, but not severe enough to explain this. Besides, an injury in the hippocampus would normally only cause slight retrograde memory loss – nothing on this scale." He walked back over to Rodney. "Over here if ya would, lad," and he led him to a hospital bed.

Rodney hesitated, told himself this was different, but he looked for restraints all the same. He took a fortifying breath and got onto the bed, pulling himself up so he was sitting, with a view of the infirmary. Sheppard approached the end of the bed slowly, stopping at the end. "You okay, Rodney?"

Rodney nodded. Carson stepped closer to the bed, grabbing his attention, and he looked at him. "I need to know everything you remember about what happened to you, Rodney. If you prefer we can do this alone." Rodney glanced over his shoulder in time to see Ronon glare at a passerby who was peering in, they quickened their step and passed by. He looked at Teyla, who was standing behind Sheppard, and realised they weren't guarding the doorways against him, as he had suspected, but for him. He looked at Sheppard and knew instinctively that as much as the soldier wanted to know he would leave without a word if he asked him.

"No, it's okay. They can stay." He didn't want to think about this, but he was fed up with not knowing, having to rely on strangers to tell him about himself. With a heavy sigh he turned to Carson, "What do you want to know?"

"To be honest, I have no idea what might be relevant and what might be incidental. It's probably best if you tell me everything you remember, starting with your earliest memory. Before we start though, do you remember when you last ate?"

It threw Rodney a bit, "Erm, I ate this morning?" unsure how this was relevant.

Carson seemed pleased with that, "And you've been eating regularly?"

"Yes," he answered, a little confused as to why they were so worried about his eating habits.

"Okay, start when you're ready, Rodney. Take your time," he nodded for him to start.

"Right." There was a heavy pause. He didn't want to go back to this, wanted to avoid it at all costs, but he needed to know, damn it, and if this is what it took then so be it. He could sense the anticipation in the strangers around him.

He took a deep sigh and began. "To start with I didn't realise that I couldn't remember who I was. I was… distracted." He took a deep sigh, if he was going to do this then he might as well go all in. "I was lying on a bed and held down with multiple restraints. There was a man walking around the bed," he glanced at Ronon, "Milton, the man you killed."

He looked back at Carson, "I tried to talk to him, to ask him what was going on, but he just ignored me. I was about to try shouting when I realised what he was doing. There was this contraption that circled the bed," he vaguely indicated around the bed with his hand using the bed he was sat on as a base. "It housed needles with vials of some green liquid. He was changing the angles of the needles and that's when I realised what was going to happen. I tried to struggle then and… he erm… he told me to stay still. "

He swallowed down the helplessness he had felt and continued. His voice wavered, betraying his emotions, "My body froze on me, I couldn't move at all. He told me to stay still and my body… it listened to him, not me. He moved out of my line of sight so I tried to move my head to follow him, but it wouldn't move. I was trapped inside, unable to do anything but watch. Then I heard the contraption start up and the needles started to penetrate my skin, moving slowly."

He paused, trying to rein in his emotions, as he looked up at Sheppard and saw his face was blank. Because this doesn't affect him, it means nothing to him and why should it? he thought, but the inner voice told him it was because the man was feeling too much. He thought about that as he continued, trying to stand back from the memories, trying to sound clinical and matter of fact about the pain he had endured.

"The needles were positioned to hit only muscle and the penetration was just a sharp pain. The same when they retracted. The man came back into view and stood watching," he audibly swallowed, "and waiting. I was about to try speaking to him again when the pain hit. Every muscle in my body convulsed, vibrating in agony. At that time I didn't think pain could feel like that and not kill you, I thought it had to be the worst pain there was."

He swallowed audibly again as he closed his eyes briefly and everyone seemed to hear the unspoken _but I was wrong. _He continued barely, his voice growing quieter, half his mind returning, reliving, no matter how he fought against it. "Your whole mind focuses down onto one thing, surviving the pain. I… I don't know if I screamed… don't know how long it went on for. I just knew pain and then it stopped."

He decided the inner voice might have something as he watched Sheppard struggle against his emotions, but he couldn't watch anymore, not with his own struggle becoming harder as the memories became more intense.

He dropped his gaze to his lap as he continued, "It was instant, like a light turning off. To start with you just breathe deep gulping breaths and revel in the fact that you can. Everything feels light as a feather but there's the phantom of pain, a residue of it left in your muscles. I was physically drained at that point, but later when I regained my energy I realised that my muscles were tighter and I was physically stronger than before. The man undid my restraints and took me to a cell. He had no need to fear me; I was still powerless to do anything other than what he asked me to do."

The silence in the infirmary was oppressive. The look on Ronon's face was thunderous, the lines of his body tense. He could see Sheppard's hands gripping the bed frame, his knuckles white and his jaw so tense he wondered it didn't snap. Telya stood behind him, her face forlorn with distress and her eyes brimming with tears. Elizabeth had a hand over her mouth, she reached out to him, but when he tensed she froze and pulled her hand back, wrapping it around her torso. He dropped his eyes to his lap. So long he had wanted to see compassion in Milton's cold eyes and now he had it, it just reminded him how alone he had really been. His heart clenched and he swallowed. "Can we continue this later? I think I just need a little time to recoup. It's been a long day."

**********

Sheppard didn't want to move. He stayed where he was, watching Rodney. Carson stopped by him, putting a hand on his forearm, "John?" he queried softly.

He tensed his jaw before turning to him, "three months, Carson," was all he said. _We just got him back, Carson. He's alive Carson_, remained unsaid but not unheard. _Please don't make me leave, Carson, _spoken only with his eyes and the white knuckle hold he still had on the bed frame. Stubbornness screamed from the set of his feet and the rigidness of his frame.

Carson looked up into John's face and as usual looked as if he could see everything inside. This was normally where John looked away, uncomfortable with his emotions but today he let him see because this cost was worth it. Carson nodded, subconsciously patting Sheppard's forearm, and turned back to Rodney, who had been watching the exchange silently.

"Rodney?" he asked gently. "Do you mind if Colonel Sheppard stays with you?" They both watched Rodney turn to look at Sheppard with a slight tilt of his head as he watched thoughtfully and silent.

John stayed still, watching Rodney watch him. Finally Rodney nodded and then dropped his gaze into his lap, not a word said. Not even an eye roll and Sheppard tried not to show how much the lack of either hurt.

Carson moved away to talk to Elizabeth. Sheppard stood watching Rodney and then moved round to sit in the chair between Rodney's bed and the next. He didn't look at Rodney when he moved, but could see him tense in his peripheral vision, could sense Rodney watching him. He sat down and then looked up at him to find Rodney watching, a mix of curiosity and wariness. Sheppard gave a tentative smile, "Hey," he said softly.

He noticed Rodney's eyebrows furrow before he replied with a hesitant, "Hey." Sheppard gave a soft huff of laughter and then smiled. Rodney smiled back, quick and light, and then dropped his gaze again, hands picking at the blankets underneath him. John still wanted to reach out and squeeze an arm just to feel the reality under his fingertips, just to be sure. He was still dealing with the fact that Rodney was alive. Rodney was here and he was alive.

He watched Rodney continually look up to monitor where everybody was, check his surroundings. His eyes like a cornered animal, identifying where the exits were, where the danger was. That did not bother him as much as it should. He figured that would ease with time. It was the silence that ate at him, that made the world seem off.

McKay sitting quietly was like the sun shining at night. He had always thought it was an automatic setting, yet here without his memories the automatic setting seemed to be speak when he had something to say. More like Ronon than Rodney.

He started wondering about Rodney's past, all his neurosis, phobias and rejections. Part of him wondered for a moment if they could hold these memories back, if given the choice should they spare him the more painful memories of his past, but he had seen sides to Rodney that many never had the privilege to know, and knew that without those parts that were born of his past, this man would never be the Rodney McKay he knew and called friend.

There was also the man Atlantis needed, the genius pushing himself harder than anyone else, thinking outside the box. His past made him the man he was today, for good or bad. Sheppard just wanted his friend back the way he was before he died on them, leaving him with nothing except for the pain of loss and anger, so much anger.

Rodney kept looking sideways at him, looking like he was working his way up to saying something. The only time he had seen McKay like this was when he's about to relay some utterly personal and usually embarrassing personal fact, or ask about one.

John just realised that he thinks of the man he knew as McKay and this subdued watered down version in front of him as Rodney. Some part of him thinks it should be the other way round, that your friend should warrant the first name not the stranger, but he's more worried that he's thinking of them as two separate people. Still the same emotional ties, but the way he reacts to them worlds apart.

It occurs to him that everyone is reacting to Rodney differently. They hoped Atlantis would stir his memories, that seeing something familiar would help bring those memories back. He wonders if their emotional reactions are giving him the time and space he needs or are they stalling his recovery.

He had always called him Rodney to calm him, to reach him, but McKay every other time and he figures, what the hell.

"Just ask the question, McKay." he says trying to inflict the normal amount of exasperation into his words.

Rodney flinches and he feels like he just kicked a puppy and he's not sure he can do that again. Rodney tenses and then holds himself up like he does when he's all bluster against the enemy and refuses to back down and John is stuck between being pleased at seeing something so familiar and being sick to the stomach with devastation that Rodney might consider him the enemy.

John can tell that he's on the verge of asking his question when Carson trundles in with a covered trolley. He's immediately forgotten as Rodney focuses on the newest threat, the moving threat. It's not till Carson stills that Rodney regards the tray like a rising cobra. John flicks glances between the two of them, trying to gauge what's coming, trying to second guess how to handle any reaction.

"Now lad," Carson says with a placating hand, "don't panic. If you say no, I'll wheel it right out of here. Now, you told me they injected you and I need to know what drugs are in your system." He pulled back the cloth to show a row of syringes. In an instant McKay had his feet under him, bouncing on his haunches, hands on the bed, ready to push him into action. It was so Rodney and yet so McKay with the emotions flooding his face, his blue eyes as expressive as ever, wide with fear.

"They're empty lad," Carson held one in his open palm, his voice full of guilt for the distress he was causing Rodney. "I won't inject anything into ya, ya have me word. I just want to help Rodney, lad," Carson's voice breaking on the last words, almost a plea with his eyes bright. Rodney looked at the needle as if it were a dagger. Carson looked to him for help.

"McKay, Carson wouldn't harm you. He's trying to help you and in order to do that he needs to do certain things." He knew Rodney was listening to him even though he hadn't taken his eyes off the needle in Carson's hand. There was a slight tilt to his head. "You need to trust us, Rodney," he finished, careful not to make any sharp movements.

On the word trust, Rodney's head flicked round to him incredulous and angry. Sheppard had never been on the receiving end of McKay's glare, but he had witnessed a fair few. Receiving it was totally different. He may not have Superman's laser vision, but, by god, it was close. Intense and hard blue eyes bore into him as the voice of steel spoke softly and dangerously.

"Trust. Colonel? Trust you?" His voice turning incredulous but still angry, so, so angry, "What do you think I've been doing since we met, Colonel? My earliest memories, Hell, at this moment in my life, ALL I've know is betrayal and pain inflicted by others."

His arms entered the conversation, making the anger known, "I have no reason to trust anyone and every reason to trust no one and yet I've followed you here, followed strangers to a place that I can't just up and walk away from because somewhere in here," a hand slapped to his chest, "a voice says it'll be okay and I have to believe that because if I'm wrong…" he stuttered to a halt. Emotions flooded his face, emotions of man on the edge of breaking. He took a breath and his face closed down hard and his voice fell lower, sharper. "Don't talk to me about trust, Colonel."

Silence filled the infirmary. Everyone was watching McKay, who continued to glare. Sheppard could see Ronon had taken a step away from the door, wanting to be nearer, wanting to comfort Rodney, but stopping when he realised he couldn't, that Rodney would never let him get that close. Teyla was behind him, out of sight, but he had no doubt she had done similar.

"I don't know what to say, what to do to make you believe, Rodney." He shrugged, feeling a lump in his throat. Swallowing around it he started again.

"I know what you've told us so far is only the beginning and that you've suffered. I know that, I do, but we're your team, Rodney. We protect you, and when we fail, Carson here fixes you. We would never hurt you and Carson would never quit on you. We're more than a team, McKay, we're friends and I wish I knew the right words to say," he stuttered to a halt.

Taking a ragged breath, he tried again. "I don't know what to say, Rodney, except that you can trust us, as you've always trusted us." His emotions controlled him by the time he was finished and the last words were broken. He hung his head, unable to maintain contact with McKay's intense look.

He saw movement and glanced back up to see Rodney sitting on the bed again with his knees pulled up tight, wrapping an arm around them. As he maintained eye contact with Sheppard he stretched his other arm out to Carson. "Sometimes you can say something without words," McKay said softly. He gave a tight smile and nodded sharply at the Colonel before turning to Carson. "How many of these do you need?"

"Three," Carson said, his energy barely contained. Probably wanting to start before Rodney changed his mind again. His relief was evident.

"Three," Rodney stated. "Why do you want three?"

"I don't know yet. I'm figuring if we find drugs in your system we can use the other vials to test the cure on… and I'm presuming you will only want to do this once."

Rodney nodded and looked down at the crook of his elbow with dogged determination to see this through. As Carson neared his arm it began to tremble. Carson looked up at McKay with such compassion, but Rodney was still looking at his arm in determination, trying to still his body as it betrayed his fears so easily.

Anger flared through his face to be replaced with an abashed expression. "I can't, I can't make it stop," he said, the pain of this admonishment sounding clearly in his voice as he spoke softly. He wouldn't make eye contact, seeming embarrassed by his lack of control.

Carson placed his hand above Rodney's arm, but did not actually make contact. "May I?" he asked. Rodney studied the back of Carson's hand and then flicked his eyes up to Carson's face and back down again.

Sheppard remembered Rodney was restrained during his torture and didn't see how Rodney would be able to deal with both the fear of needles and being restrained, but Rodney just nodded, jerkily, with determination filling his face again, reminding John of his inner strength.

Carson gripped the arm as gently as he could and took the blood, one after the other, smooth and efficient. He placed the last vial back on the tray and turned back to Rodney, "All done."

Rodney looked at his arm curiously, "It didn't hurt."

Carson huffed a laugh, "Well, I am actually pretty good at this, even if I say so myself."

Rodney just nodded, seeming distracted. "I'll be back in a minute, Rodney." Carson trundled the cart away and returned shortly with another covered tray which Rodney scowled at, looking like he was about to rant again. "Don't worry, lad. You'll like this tray," Carson said before peeling back the cover to show McKay's favourite foods.

Sheppard knew it was cruel, but he wished Carson had been slow on the reveal, he could have done with the familiarity of a McKay rant round about now. He watched McKay eat, warily at first but speeding up when he realised he wasn't dying from poison and the food was okay.

Carson spoke while he ate, explaining to McKay why he had to remain in the infirmary till he had the results back. Rodney seemed as if he had expected that, but when Carson told him he would be sleeping where he was, he suddenly became edgy. Sheppard realised that he was finding the idea of sleeping amongst strangers, potentially dangerous strangers in his eyes, very nerve wracking. He could understand that to a certain degree. You were always at your most vulnerable when asleep.

"If we were gonna hurt you we would have done so by now," he said, leaning forward to make eye contact. "You're safe now no-one here will hurt you McKay."

McKay nodded, staring intently at Sheppard.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**THE CYNICAL SOLDIER**

**Chapter 9 Iss1;**

Rodney knew it was true. If they were going to kill him they would have, could have at any time. But he still couldn't bring himself to believe, not yet.

He needed them too, though. He needed them to believe that he thought he was safe and had let his guard down. It gave him the upper edge, the element of surprise if he needed it. So he asked the question that was most likely to change the focus away from him.

He turned to the doctor, "So, do you know what they did? Can you fix it?" He could see the soldier snap to attention, looking at the doctor as well. Rodney didn't look at him, never took his eyes off the doctor, wanting the soldier to focus his attention away from him and it seemed to be working.

Carson looks sympathetic and guilty as hell, which in turn made him feel guilty, which is odd in itself, considering he snapped a guy's neck a week before and only felt a twinge, which was more than he felt when he killed the guy's friends in more barbaric ways. The inner voice that was so easy to ignore in the past is now becoming louder.

Carson's response halted his thoughts. "I don't know what they did. I can't find anything specific in the scan except for a swollen hippocampus. This is responsible for your memories and trauma can cause slight retrograde memory loss. Retrograde means you can't remember the trauma or a short period before that point.

"You have total amnesia and none of the usual markers for cause. We are still waiting for the blood results. We are expecting the results to show that either there is something in your blood that is responsible for the amnesia or maybe something in your blood is working in conjunction with the hippocampus is the cause. I'm hoping we will learn more when we get your blood works back."

The Doctor hesitated and Rodney steeled himself. He wasn't going to like this he could tell. "I know it's painful for you to tell us the things they did, but there may be something that gives us a clue. I need to know everything that happened to you, and the sooner the better, Rodney. As soon as you are up to it, I really need you to tell us." His voice was tinged with compassion, as if he understood how very much Rodney wanted to just burrow down into these soft sheets, cocoon himself in the warmth and forget everything that went before.

"I wish I did'nae have to ask you, lad, but it maybe the key to fixing you. There is still a chance that we may not have to do anything, of course. Did'nae Milton tell ya that it would come back gradually?"

_Milton_. Just the name was like a punch to the gut. Anger, God, how angry did he feel when he thought of that man and the things he had done… the things he had almost done again. That man would have destroyed him with a smile on his face and calling himself friend. That's why he wasn't ready to believe these people so quickly. He wasn't going to be made an idiot twice in one day.

He nodded silently while he got his emotions under control, another thing that was becoming harder. He felt like he was drowning in feelings and it hadn't even been a full day since he met these guys.

"That's what he said, but he didn't give any time frames, besides… he wasn't exactly trustworthy. I'd rather not depend on anything he said if we can find another way."

A quick glance at the soldier, Sheppard, showed his face was thunderous. Carson nodded, "do you think ya can tell us more of what they did to you, Rodney?"

Rodney pushed his plate away, appetite gone. Sadness and resignation flooded his features and his actions. He saw Sheppard move towards him, but ended up just placing a hand on the bed next to him instead, for which he was grateful. He wasn't up to letting strangers put their hands on him yet.

Carson drooped. "I understand if you're not ready yet, lad. We can leave it a while."

Rodney shook his head. "No, we have to do it sometime. We may as well do it now. Get it out of the way. Milton…" he couldn't use his name anymore as the emotions it inflicted were too raw. "He didn't come back to my cell till the next morning. I spent that night trying to figure out what was going on, how I got there. That's when I realised I couldn't remember anything, not even who I was, where I was from, let alone how I got there."

He suddenly looked up at Carson, blue eyes intense and suffused with sadness, "Do you know how alone you feel when you have to consider even yourself a stranger?" He looked back down and murmured softly, "Alone and lost."

He snapped back to himself, he couldn't show them any weakness. They might use it against him later. He continued as if he had never stopped. "He came back in the morning." He didn't notice the depth of derision and hate that had entered his voice, but Sheppard and Carson did, with a quick glance at each other before turning back to Rodney just as he raised his head.

"The first thing he said was 'don't hurt me and do only as I say' and like the night before I found myself obeying when he told me to follow him." He added in a distracted, saddened voice, "I think I had hoped it was the drugs and that it would wear off, but apparently it was something else. I could no more disobey him than I could choose to stop breathing."

He paused, knowing the other two were watching him but unable to continue, the sense of being under someone else's control, the fear of what could be done to him.

"Rodney," Carson said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "We can continue this tomorrow… after you've had a good night's sleep, maybe."

Rodney shook his head adamantly, "No. No, it's…" he took a deep breath, sat up a little straighter, chin a little stronger and continued, ignoring the sound of his heart thumping in his chest. "He took me to this room, no windows. There were never any windows. I didn't see the outside until the day I escaped."

His eyes roved, as he saw the room again in his mind's eye, "This room had consoles at the edge, but in the middle under this large spotlight there was a huge metal table that seemed to shine with its own light. There were holes throughout the length of the table, like a drain and at the edges there were dark brown leather straps."

He figured the fear must still be strong and clearly visible in his features if the soldier's angry reaction was any indication. He carried on, struggling against the memories. "He told me to lie down and I struggled, those holes, I kept thinking about blood draining away and I tried so hard to fight him but I couldn't and eventually I was lying down against the cold metal. He came over and fixed the restraints so I couldn't move."

He noticed the soldier's hand was gripping the bed sheets as they twisted in his fist, and he glanced away, back towards the doctor. "They put this circlet device on my head, it had blue lights on it. They glowed when he put it on and I could have sworn he flinched a little at that point, but I don't know why, I don't think it was the first time I had worn it. There was a slight tingling at the back of my head that seemed strangely familiar. He went to one of the consoles in the room and flicked a switch. I saw some strange symbols scroll past on a large screen, similar to that one you were looking at earlier."

His face grimaced at the phantom memory of the pain. "It was like a lightning bolt in my mind. Pure light blinding all else and pain, so much pain, so intense and it seemed to last forever."

"Rodney, maybe you should leave this till you've had a good night's sleep," Sheppard suggested softly, "like you said, it's been a long day."

"No, no. This is the important part. After that room, he took me to another. I couldn't even turn away from him, let alone fight him. He had total control over my own body." He sat a little straighter and for the first time since they found him he gave that genius half smile and the familiar smugness entered his voice, "but he couldn't control my mind. I matched him step by step and by the time we reached the second room I had killed him five different ways."

He was back there for a moment, reliving it with relish. He didn't realise the sparkle in his eyes was normally reserved for alien technology and didn't notice how uncomfortable the two men in front of him suddenly seemed.

He came back to the present. That memory always made him feel stronger and he continued with renewed confidence. His arms joined in the narrative, making his words come alive. "It was wall to wall weapons. Spears, long staffs, swords, guns, things I had no idea what they did at that time. All the blades were wrapped in beautiful soft red leather with gold studs that gave you a good grip. Everything had its place. Everything was clean and sharp. They had a shine to them that just screamed danger. I preferred them to the guns, they required more skill. When you fought with these, they came alive in your hands and made you feel powerful." He suddenly registered the shock in their eyes, "What?"

Carson looked nervously at Sheppard who leaned forward, "You, er, you seem to enjoy working with weapons, using your hands. It's just, well, you didn't feel that way before. You actually used these weapons?"

He suddenly felt uneasy. Maybe they wouldn't be so accommodating if they knew what he was capable off. He backtracked over what he had said and realised he couldn't back out now. "Yes," he said hesitantly, then speeding up, tripping over himself to explain.

"That first time, when he told me to work with the staffs and spears, my body seemed to lurch after every move, almost like it was surprised at itself. So I always figured this wasn't something I knew, but the more I did the moves, the more smooth and familiar they became. I soon realised that after the lighting shot," he stuttered to a halt, "Erm, I mean the download… after the download more things became familiar and I always suspected that, somehow, the machine downloaded the skills I was using.

"I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but I remember that first time when I only knew so much and that the next time I stepped into that room I knew how to handle more of those weapons. I think that without more treatment the skills fade. He said the memories need to be finalised and I think without that process they become weaker until they fade away."

Sheppard leaned forward and made eye contact with him, saying softly, hesitantly as though it was painful to ask, "Did you… did you use them on anybody?"

Rodney suddenly felt cornered and anger flowed sharp. "Don't you get it? If he had told me I would have cut off my own arm, taken my own life. There was no way to stop myself from following his commands and if you just let yourself go, let yourself follow, there was a peacefulness, a rightness to it that was intoxicating and afterwards…" he looked downwards, moving to a place in the past, "the first time I looked down and saw what I had done I wanted him to ask me to do that, to take my own life. Rather me than them, but the more downloads I received the less I felt. Not just about that, about all things. I just became numb inside, like a part of me died."

He looked back to the soldier as he heard his breath hitch, the soldier's eyes gleamed with unshed tears as he whispered in a broken but intense voice, "I am so sorry, Rodney. I am so sorry that I couldn't protect you. You… you should never have had to do that, to experience that. I hope one day you can forgive me." He rose sharply and left the infirmary, tracked by the shocked blue eyes of Rodney McKay.

He looked back to the Doctor, hoping he could explain. That was not the reaction he had been expecting. He stared at the doctor as he watched a tear break free from his watery eyes. He furrowed his brow in confusion and watched as the doctor scrubbed at his eyes, mumbling in a thick Scottish accent. "Stupid, stupid man."

When he looked back up at Rodney, they just stared at each other for a while. When nothing was forthcoming, Rodney asked the question. "Why do I have to forgive him?"

"Because he's a stupid, stupid man," Carson snapped before taking a large fortifying breath. "He's your team leader and your friend. It is officially his responsibility to protect you. He couldn't have stopped what happened but… like I said, the man's an idiot. He blames himself. I think your whole team does to be honest. They are all warriors and you are considered the civilian, the one they should protect. They have been drowning in grief and guilt since your supposed death. I thought this might be an end to that, but some people almost seem to seek guilt out." He sighed heavily before looking intently at Rodney.

"I know you don't remember, I know you're healing yourself, Rodney, but you could help them. Tell them that you don't blame them. Make sure they understand there was nothing they could do. I can get them back here by saying you're insisting on it, that you want to see the only familiar faces you know around you. Their damn guilt will bring them back," he almost spat in anger. Then he looked at Rodney with soft eyes as he spoke gently, "they wouldn't leave you alone. Will you help them, Rodney?"

He nodded dumbly in response. This was all getting to much. His emotions were leaving him washed out. "I don't want to talk anymore," he stated. He had almost got himself into trouble and he would have to plan what things he would say and what things he wouldn't. He would also have to keep a tight rein on his anger as well. He was furious with himself that he had told them willingly that he had killed people; he had thought that would be the end to it, that they would throw him out.

The soldier's response still confused him and he felt lost. He only just registered Carson nodding eagerly and moving away from his bed. He sagged back against the pillows trying to replay the day and all the things he had witnessed, all the flashes of memory he had experienced, trying to find order amongst the chaos. Hoping beyond hope that he would find the clue that would tell him that they were telling the truth, that he was finally home, amongst friends and that he wouldn't have to kill anybody else. He would kill them if it was necessary, but he thought the inner voice would just scream and never stop if he ever had to do that.

The doctor came back with some white two piece outfit that he seemed to have to change into. He didn't like the idea of changing out of his clothes, feeling more vulnerable, but he had come close today and he didn't want them to change their minds about him until he had figured out what he wanted to do.

He gave a deep, resigned sigh. He was going to have to do as they asked, at least for the immediate future. He changed into the white clothes and placed his own under his bed, where he could reach them if needed.

He climbed under the covers, and as the warmth seeped into his body, he felt his eyelids grow heavy, the emotions of the day laying heavy in his bones as he sagged into the warmth of the bed. He tried to keep the panic at bay, falling asleep in a strange place as the shadows drew in, surrounded by strangers. A noise from the infirmary door made him stiffen as he turned towards it with fear, yet ready to face anything.

He watched silently as three people slunk into the infirmary, quiet on their feet and quiet in their nature. Ronon and Teyla petered to a halt when they passed the door, probably unsure they were welcome as they hadn't been within five paces of him since the jumper.

He nodded to them, which they took as confirmation they were welcome. Well, judging by the hesitant steps they took, maybe not welcome but allowed at least. Sheppard walked round to the other side of the bed, eyes watching him the whole time. He looked edgy, like he was waiting for rejection he was sure would come.

He watched them silently while they found their places around his bed. Sheppard spoke, and he could still hear the earlier emotion in his voice. "Rodney? Carson said you wanted us here, but we can go if you want, you just have to say."

Rodney realised that he did feel easier with these three people here and the earlier emotions of safe and protected returned. "I don't want to talk anymore tonight, but I would feel better if you all could stay. I can't say why," he shrugged self consciously, looking at the blanket in his lap, "If you don't want to…"

"No, no. We want to," Sheppard rushed to interrupt. He looked up at them all then to find them smiling, still seeming a little unsure, but he could see by the lines of their bodies they were more relaxed. He smiled back hesitantly.

Teyla edged closer to the bed, "We are pleased to be here with you, Rodney."

"I, erm, I'm going to sleep now, it's been a long day," he responded, not quite sure what to say.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Sheppard said. As Rodney squirmed under the blankets the three looked to each other and seemed to come to a silent agreement as both Ronon and Sheppard turned to the bed on either side and climbed on top off them, lying down to sleep.

Teyla took a chair next to the bed and they looked at each other in silence while he fought against sleep. Just as it took him, he thought he heard Teyla's soft voice again, "Sleep, Rodney. You have nothing to fear, we will watch over you. Sleep well my friend. I cannot find the words to say how happy I am to have you back."

With sleep came the familiar snatches of colour, but they became a tantalising kaleidoscope of images, the whispers of ghosts in the shadows became murmured half sentences as the human mind continued the arduous task of fixing itself.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

_Just wanted to say thank you to all those who are taking the time to comment - its means a lot and bolsters my enthusiasm and never fails to make me smile. Hope you enjoy this one - its one of my favourites._

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 10;**

The infirmary was in half darkness when Rodney woke up. He lay perfectly still while he tried to figure out what had woken him. He was sure he remembered a sensation like being prodded, but the memory was muddied by the haze of sleep.

He saw a movement and sat up sharply, just in time to see Sheppard retract his hand quickly.

"Did you just prod me?" he hissed angrily, mindful not to wake the others unnecessarily. He wanted to keep the numbers even if he could, he was pretty sure he could take this guy if required.

"Erm…"

"You did," he hissed incredulously. "Why?" he asked sternly, the anger clear. As he spoke, he cast an eye over his legs to see if he could discern a change, something they had done. He was furious, more furious with himself if he was honest. What else had they done while he slept? He had let his guard down, what had that cost him?

"I'm sorry," Sheppard said in a small voice. The lights dimmed slightly and Sheppard took full advantage of the growing shadows, leaning back into them as he spoke gently, voice full of anguish, pain and guilt evident.

"You died, Rodney. You were dead… and it really hurt, okay." He looked up then and Rodney could see his eyes shining in the dark. "I missed you… and then, there you were, large as life. I know sometimes luck can play a part, sometimes extraction can be that easy but… we were going to tear that planet apart to find you and there you were, walking down a garden path," his tone turning to disbelief with the last words.

"We swore, all of us," he said as he indicated the sleeping forms of Ronon behind him and Teyla opposite. "We swore, whatever it took we would bring you back and we expected to risk everything for you. But there you were, walking down the God damn street. I'm still coming to terms with the fact you're even alive… it was all too easy and part of me… well, maybe it's not real, you know? I see you there, I know the Doc's run his tests but I guess I just needed to touch, for me. I just needed to reach out and know you're there, that you're real." He shrugged, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I just couldn't not."

Rodney just stared at him, processing his words, his anger forgotten. They were going to tear the planet apart… for him, risk everything… for him. He could be lying of course, but if he was faking that depth of emotion, then he was damned good. Rodney suddenly wanted it to be true, wanted these people to be his friends. He wanted to believe that people could care for him that much, that maybe somewhere inside he was worth that much.

"How did… how did I end up there?" He asked. The question had been on his mind since that first night in the cell, he hadn't asked before because he couldn't bear to hear more lies, but maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't be lies.

Sheppard gave a ragged intake of breath. "Rodney," was all he said, but the emotions were so clear he may as well have said it, begged it, _don't make me._

"I want to know. I _need_ to know. Please," Rodney whispered

Sheppard nodded his head, licking his lips nervously. "Okay." He took a deep breath and leant forward, forearms on the bed, as he spoke. "We were looking through ruins. You were downloading the database, apparently that's what initiated the machine. You were looking around while I was talking to Teyla and Ronon."

He straightened up and leant back into the shadows, hiding his face, his voice just a whisper in the dark. "Next thing I know you've found this holographic wall and stepped inside. There was this bright light, so bright we couldn't see anything, but we could hear you screaming."

As he continued his voice became distracted. It was obvious he was trapped in some inner memory and talking to himself. "I don't think I'll ever stop hearing the sound of you scream." The emotion was so painful it hurt just to listen. The words were haunting as they were whispered so quietly in the shadows that they sent a shiver down Rodney's spine in the heavy pause that followed.

John started as he returned to the present. He cleared his throat as he quickly sat a little straighter in his seat. When he spoke his voice was still tight, held in check with fragile reins. "They said it was a death chamber. They said that you had died. It was luck, pure luck that Parrish found it. The auction notice, did you know that they were going to auction you?"

Sheppard's low voice sounding in the half darkness of the infirmary created an atmosphere, a quiet that Rodney didn't want to break. He nodded dumbly.

Sheppard nodded back, confirmation of some inner thought. "We tried to find a way to get you, but we couldn't. I bet you would've, but we didn't have you, we had to wait. I hated waiting." He leant forward again, suddenly intense, "We were coming for you though. There was never any doubt, we were coming for you."

He looked down at his hands, "We don't know how they got you. The current thought of the day is that the chamber transported you somewhere, either directly into their hands or to someone else who delivered you to them. I'm not sure we'll ever know, unless you remember. Personally, I hope you never do."

"You hope I don't remember?" Rodney asked confused.

"Not that. Your tracker was left behind, Rodney. Wherever you arrived, your tracker had been ripped from your body. Before that, you were screaming. I could hear the fear and pain in it. I wish I could forget it and I hope you never have to remember pain that makes you scream like that."

"Oh," Rodney said quietly. Seeing the soldier so shaken seemed to shake him to the core and some sixth sense seemed to share the soldier's fear and he hoped he didn't get that memory back either.

"You really should get some more sleep, Rodney. Your team**'**s here. Nothing will happen to you, I swear."

"Soon," he replied. "I need to know something else first. You asked me to forgive you, but I don't see anything you've done. What do I need to forgive you for?"

Sheppard's eyes locked on to his, intense, "It's my job to protect you, Rodney. When you joined my team I promised I would. I know you, Rodney. When you get your memories back, when you remember what they made you do, to kill someone without reason. That'll eat away at you. That's not you, not like that. I'm not just supposed to protect your life, Rodney. I'm supposed to protect _you,_ keep you whole as I can, given our circumstances. I promised I'd protect you and I didn't. I failed you, Rodney."

Sheppard looked back down at his hands, "To be honest, even if you can forgive me, I'm not sure I can forgive myself for allowing that to happen. You should never have had to experience the things you did. I'm so sorry for that, Rodney, so sorry."

"But I don't get what you think you could have done?" Rodney asked with confusion clear in his words. Confused also by the depth of guilt this man carried and a little bowled over by the depth of conviction this stranger had to protect him.

"I could have stayed closer, stopped you from stepping inside that chamber. I could have made sure we didn't stop looking for you. I could have done a hundred different things. I know because I've thought of little else for the last three months, a hundred things that would have made the difference. If I had searched the building properly I would have been the one to find it, to step inside, not you.

"That's your answer? Step into the chamber instead of me? Knowing what you know now that's still a viable option for you?" He asked in disbelief.

"Whatever it takes, Rodney."

"Well, I don't forgive you. As far as I can see there is nothing to forgive. You didn't do anything wrong and, by the way, the doctor's right. You are an idiot. If anything, apparently you need to forgive me for wandering off."

Sheppard was smirking, it was annoying. Every time he allowed his emotions to rule him it seemed to make the soldier smirk. His reactions to everything seemed so irrational it made him hard to figure out.

"You're always wandering off, I've never been able to stop you," Sheppard answered.

"And do you ask for my forgiveness every time I do," he hissed.

The smile fell from the soldier's face, "You don't always die, Rodney," he said seriously.

"Oh, so this time you knew I was going to die?" he asked incredulously.

"No! Of course not," Sheppard responded sharply.

"You're an idiot. You want forgiveness for something you had no hand in. I'm going to sleep now, tomorrow I'll tell you some things I've done. I'll tell you about things that really require forgiveness… from people who can never give it and then you'll never ask me again."

He shuffled angrily under the covers.

"Rodney," Sheppard whispered pleadingly, obviously not wanting to leave things this way.

"Tomorrow," he said. He closed his eyes and didn't say another thing until sleep took him again.

*************

John sat, watching him sleep while going through the things they'd discussed. He heard Ronon stir behind him on the bed he'd given up to take his watch.

"He's right you know," Ronon rumbled in the dark. "You can't let things you can't change affect you. We all wish we'd done more, but what's done is done. He needs you here, now, in the present. Not locked in the past."

"I know, but I can't help the way I feel. I won't ask him again," Sheppard said, keeping his back to Ronon.

"In case you missed it in amongst all those words, he forgave you."

Sheppard nodded, "I heard," he said softly.

"Then it's done?" Ronon asked.

"Get some sleep, Ronon."

The Satedan sighed, then stilled and soon his breathing fell into the rhythm of peaceful slumber. Sheppard sat watching, thinking through the things that had been said while the sky changed colours and the light crept across the infirmary, banishing the shadows for a little while.

Rodney woke up slowly, then seemed to jerk awake suddenly, checking his surroundings. John watched him silently, waiting till Rodney's eyes settled on him before he spoke. "Hey."

"You still an idiot?" Rodney asked as he pulled the pillows up behind him and made himself comfortable.

John huffed a laugh, "No, not so much."

Rodney nodded. "So, what lovely things do you have in store for me today?"

"Knowing the Doc? More tests."

As if on cue, Carson walked into the infirmary and, seeing them awake, he walked over. "Morning," he said with a smile. "Sleep well?" He raised a questioning eyebrow at Rodney, "Everything okay, last night?"

Rodney nodded back, rather intensely.

Carson literally bounced on his feet, grinning widely. "Good, good. That's good."

John was pretty sure he'd just missed a conversation. He saw Rodney roll his eyes and Carson's display of joy that seemed a little over the top for a good's night sleep.

Carson turned to him, "And you, John. You okay today?"

And just like that, everything clicked into place. Carson had asked Rodney to speak to him. "Yeah, Doc. I'm fine." If possible, Carson bounced a little more, never any good at subtlety. Despite himself, he found he couldn't help but grin at the Doc's feeble attempts at being covert. Rodney was openly scowling at him now, which just made him grin a little wider.

"So, what's the plan for today, Doc?" Rodney asked and it was those little things that blew him out of the water. Rodney was proud of his doctorates, always introducing himself as Doctor and always gave at least that much respect to others. The only person allowed to call him Doc was Lorne, and he still hadn't figured out why yet. He always presumed that the team would probably be allowed as well but they never had, always respecting Rodney his title, knowing what it meant to him.

He saw Carson's eyes widen briefly but carry on without a word. "Gonna give you another scan today, just to see if there is any change. We'll get your blood works back today, so hopefully we'll have some answers for you. Well, as you're awake, we may as well do the scan now. We can have you back in time for breakfast."

They proceeded to do just that. He hovered at the Doctor's shoulder watching the results as the machine scanned Rodney. Anticipation was winding tightly in his stomach. "Carson?"

"Nae, lad. Nothing. The hippocampus is marginally smaller, but the difference hardly registers." His voice was clinical, matter of fact, but he could still sense the disappointment in it.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"We wait for the blood works," he walked back over to Rodney. "Come on, Rodney. Let's get you back into bed for breakfast."

Rodney got up and followed. He seemed a little more relaxed around them at last. As they walked back to Rodney's bed he saw Teyla and Ronon were up, sitting on the edge of the beds they had slept on. Teyla raised a questioning brow and he shook his head, _nothing. No change._

Her gaze slid to Rodney flawlessly. "Good Morning, Rodney," she smiled serenely.

Rodney hesitated and then responded, "Good Morning," he nodded to Ronon before climbing back into his bed. John noticed he had given it a cursory glance before doing so. Not so relaxed as he thought.

Carson had arranged for them all to have breakfast in the infirmary with Rodney. It was a mixture of emotion. Mostly, it was great, sitting here, being here with Rodney. He kept getting little bubbles of euphoria where he had to struggle not to burst into dopey grins. _Rodney was alive. _Then the quiet would intrude and remind him that although Rodney was here, alive, he wasn't whole. The Rodney he knew was still missing, only this time he was in a place John couldn't reach him.

"So the scan's done, what else am I doing today?" Rodney asked before pushing a forkful of bacon and eggs in his mouth. Sheppard wondered if that still would have been his first question if he remembered eggs weren't purple. He missed his friend.

Sheppard shrugged as Carson's voice sounded behind him. "Nothing else until we've got your blood works back. Any treatment we give you could be detrimental without knowing what's in your system. I know it takes time, Rodney, but we will get there."

Rodney nodded. "I was wondering if I could look around, see if anything seems familiar?"

He saw Carson look to him, which must mean it was fine as far as Carson was concerned from a medical stand point which just left the security issue; his call then. Rodney followed Carson's gaze to look at him as well.

Sheppard looked back, thinking. He had detected something familiar in Rodney's voice. Like when he explained the scientific progress he could make with a piece of ancient technology, when what he really meant was that he really, really wanted to play. He had that same contained energy bursting at the seams. That poorly hidden bounce that always meant Rodney was up to something.

He figured if he was going to try something then it was better he give him a free rein to see where it led, as long as they kept a close eye on him. At least they knew him well enough that they should be able to spot anything suspicious. "Sure we can, Rodney. We'll all go with you, keep you company."

Rodney looked at him and John felt sure he was being fully assessed and catalogued in that split second before Rodney smiled, "Great. I'll just get dressed and then we'll go."

"Sadly, I have to stay here and help with the blood work. I'll give you a call as soon as I know anything. If you don't hear from me before, be back here for dinner. I'll arrange for your food to be brought here. Now, I have to go. Have fun, boys and girls." Carson raised his hand as he turned and walked to the rear of the infirmary, where Sheppard knew he could reach the medical labs situated underneath them.

The three of them left the cubicle area, pulling the curtains round to give Rodney the privacy to dress. He pulled the other two over to the doorway and whispered, "Keep a close eye, he's up to something." They both simply nodded back. He wondered if this was because they had sensed it too or if they just trusted him enough to take him at his word.

"Do you think we should have Zelenka with us?" Asked Teyla quietly, casting a glance back towards the closed curtains.

It was a valid point, Zelenka would know if Rodney was up to anything with the systems, but Sheppard had no intention of letting him anywhere near them. "No, we won't allow him to access anything so I don't think we need Zelenka. Rodney seems to be thinking like a soldier at the moment. Just keep an eye, don't relax," he said as he followed Teyla's gaze to the curtained area.

They didn't say anymore, not wanting to get caught talking about him as that would make him more wary.

Rodney pulled the curtains aside, pausing for a moment to look at each of them in turn before walking over to them. They left the infirmary together, walking through the halls. People they passed stopped, smiles blooming on their faces when they saw him. "Morning, Doctor McKay." "Good to have you back, Doctor." "Hello, McKay."

He seemed oblivious of how he sunk back to the middle of the team, using them as a buffer, as he responded tentatively or in most cases, just nodded in response. He had to admit, he got a warm feeling inside that Rodney found a sense of security by surrounding himself by his team, even if it was done unconsciously.

When the halls were empty, Rodney seemed to lose himself in the surroundings. John took him to the window they had first seen the city from, although it had been underwater then. He still came here himself sometimes, it still held a certain wonder. It reminded him of those initial feelings, the sense of adventure and anticipation that he had felt that first time, helping to reawaken them.

Rodney was suitably amazed, but sadly no memory of ever seeing it before. Sheppard took him out onto a balcony that overlooked a majority of the city, tall spires reaching up into a blue, blue sky. "It's beautiful," Rodney whispered reverently.

"It certainly is," Sheppard responded quietly. They stayed there a while, letting the cool breeze wash over them while they stood in the sun.

Rodney looked a little edgy before he spoke, "I was thinking I'd like to see the er… jumpers? They were fascinating."

_Looking for a way out, Rodney? _So that was his game. He definitely was thinking like a soldier and now Sheppard knew this was a recon. Rodney was finding out about his surroundings, mapping a way out, planning his escape. "Maybe later, Rodney." He made a mental note to take as many twists and turns as possible. He was in two minds about the transporters. On the one side they would confuse his sense of location; on the other they would be a useful tool and make it harder to find him should he escape. He decided against them. "Shall we?" he asked as he gestured to the doorway.

Rodney almost hid his frustration, it was only because he knew him so well and was looking for it that Sheppard saw it. Rodney smiled a fake ingratiating smile that Sheppard hated.

"Sure, where to next?" Rodney asked with fake casualness as he followed Ronon and Teyla back into the hallways.

"I figured we'd show you the Gym next. It's where we train our soldiers."

"You wanna spar with me, McKay?" Ronon asked, and the teasing was evident. He doubted Rodney would remember how many times Ronon had asked him, always knowing the answer, but loving the panic that flashed in Rodney's face. He definitely had a twisted sense of humour that one.

Rodney blinked in surprise, looking between Ronon and Sheppard, "You'd let me fight you?" he asked disbelievingly, but they could all detect a faint trace of hope in it.

Sheppard shrugged. "They're only practice weapons, it's up to you."

Ronon was looking like his Christmas had come early. A huge wolfish grin on his face and bright eyes looked at Rodney, full of hope. "You want to? You want to spar with me?"

All those times he had asked and Sheppard had never once guessed that Ronon was always hoping for the answer to be yes. Judging by Telya's pleased and indulgent expression she had, but then that was no surprise. Sometimes John was sure Teyla got a manual on everyone she met, always seeming to see inside them and know them instantly.

Rodney nodded, a genuine smile gracing his face.

They made their way to the gym. As they entered, there were two marines working. Sheppard walked over to them as Rodney gravitated toward the practice staffs docked in the stand at the end of the gym. "Would you mind if we took the room off you for a little while?" Sheppard asked.

"Of course, Sir," Jenkins responded, his gaze drifting over to where Rodney was running a hand along the staffs. "Doctor McKay. Glad you're back with us."

Sergeant Thompson nodded his agreement, "Yes, good to see you, Doctor McKay."

Rodney had just pulled one of the staffs out of the stand and looked up at the soldier. He nodded in response as he brought the staff up, so that it sat in his hand horizontally at waist height and it bounced as he checked the weight and balance. He nodded in satisfaction. "You okay with these?" he asked Ronon, who was just reaching out for one of them.

"Yeah, no one here can use them so they only practice when they have to. It'll make a nice change," Ronon said, still grinning and bouncing. He wasn't annoyed at Ronon for giving away tactical information, in fact it was a good misdirection. Ronon just meant that no one here could use them as well as Ronon, but then who could?

Jenkins and Thompson still hadn't moved, staring at the two of them. Sheppard leaned towards Jenkins and said quietly, "Are you sure you're okay to go?"

Jenkins jumped and twisted his head to look at him. "Sir? McKay and Ronon? Are you sure that's a good idea? No offense, sir," he hastily tacked on the end.

Sheppard grinned. It always made him feel good when his soldiers sought to protect McKay as well, glad that others had finally managed to see what his team had seen from those early days. He also knew that Ronon terrorised them mercilessly, probably the stuff of a few nightmares. He shrugged nonchalantly, "He wants to?"

He took a step back and indicated the benches. Jenkins and Thompson jerked into action, walking over and picking up their bags. Sheppard wandered over behind them. Just as they were about to go, Jenkins turned back to him, "Can we watch?" He asked conspiratorially, almost pleading.

Sheppard grinned, in full understanding. He nodded skywards, "Watch from the gantry," he said.

Sheppard turned, lowering himself down onto the bench next to Teyla. He leant back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him. He angled his head towards Teyla, "Ronon knows to go gently, right?"

Teyla turned to him with a smile that quickly turned into a small chuckle. She nodded as she responded, "He would never hurt, Rodney. You should know that."

"Yeah, I know that. I also know that sometimes he get's carried away when he gets over excited… reminds me of a Labrador I had as a child."

Her brow furrowed, "Labrador? What is a Labrador?"

He shook his head briefly, "I'll tell you later," he indicated McKay and Ronon, "the shows about to start." He watched Rodney and Ronon walk onto the mat, settle into their positions, then they started to move. Ronon always looked as if he was stalking his prey, but with Rodney it looked more like a dance.

While he mused on where to go after this, he watched them circle each other. Intrigued by how Rodney moved, he had never seen that level of balance to him. Ronon lunged and Sheppard sat up straight. That was a full assault, just like he gave the marines. Ronon was not going easy on McKay. He was about to surge to his feet and pull Ronon out when Rodney met the challenge.

Sheppard went cold. His civilian was a soldier and he couldn't help but remember how much pain it had cost him. He watched as Rodney met each challenge and even gave a few of his own before they separated and circled each other again.

Ronon was grinning, Sheppard couldn't remember the last time he had seen him so happy. Rodney's face was blank, eyes calculating, searching. He was watching every nuance of Ronon's movement, ready for the next attack.

McKay lifted his staff slightly and it looked like an opening, Ronon took it. His staff moved to follow the length of his arm and through his hand, his other hand up by his bicep holding it steady. His staff like a striking cobra to bite into empty air as Rodney spun away. He was as graceful as a dancer and so fast he was almost a blur.

As he spun out of the way his staff twisted in the air seeming to move by its own magic striking towards Ronon's back as Rodney held it like a bat and Sheppard remembered his words from yesterday. _"They come alive in your hands, made you feel powerful."_

Ronon turned, hands separating and flowing along the length of the staff to hold it vertical and steady to block Rodney's attack, the sound of wood against wood echoing through the gymnasium. It would have been a hard hit.

Rodney carried on his path, walking in an arch so he was facing Ronon, whilst he found his position he levelled out his staff, looking to slide it round Ronon's staff to duplicate his original attack.

Ronon slid his staff down the length of Rodney's, pushing into it and keeping it at bay while he lifted it up so that only a third remained below Rodney's. In one fluid movement he slipped it under Rodney's and using the power of his muscles to lift Rodney's staff up and away. Rodney spun, allowing the staff to slip through his fingers so he now had hold of it centrally once again. The staff seemed to flow in his hands. He turned back to Ronon, staff at the ready and in a defensive position. Ronon was likewise.

They circled each other again, but this time they were both smiling and Rodney definitely looked smug. Ronon had fallen for his feint and it had almost cost him the fight. Sheppard knew he would not do so again so easily, he would remember now that this was not McKay.

"It… he seems very adept," Teyla said, her voice sounding distracted and shocked but it was the stutter at the start that told him just how completely thrown Teyla was. She always thought before she spoke, always sure. She must be as shocked as he was, although he wasn't going to trust himself to speak, just nodding dumbly in response. They both watched them circle, one foot overcrossing the other, each placed with a surety and balance that McKay just never had.

Sheppard had always known that he was capable, but knew McKay would never be as good as he could be. Firstly, because he lacked the confidence to think he could be any good and so therefore, never would be. Also because he could never shut his brain down long enough to concentrate, to see everything he needed to see. Now, it seems he could. He was totally focused and it was damned scary to watch.

Ronon's voice rumbled in the silence of the gym. "You're holding back," he said, sounding more curious than disappointed.

"So are you," Rodney answered challengingly, watching and waiting for the next attack.

_That was holding back! _He now realised just how dangerous Rodney could be. He knew there wasn't a man amongst his marines who could have bested Ronon and yet Rodney was coming close. He honestly didn't know who would win anymore. He would have to rethink the security detail and he would have to get Zelenka to password the Jumper bay or something for a while, and pretty damn quick too.

He was watching a man who could best any man under his command and he was pretty sure he could best himself as well.

"Not anymore," Ronon said with a grin and went into attack.

Rodney had shed his jacket before he started and this time Sheppard could see his muscles bunch against the attack, before gliding to the side and retaliating. They continued to move together this time, no separating after each attack anymore.

There was no quarter given, the sticks a blur as they whirled and pivoted, flowing at their masters' command. Hits were made that made Sheppard cringe in sympathy, but they were shrugged off as they continued, neither of them backing down. Rodney and Ronon where panting now, sweat starting to make their skin glisten in the sunlight that poured through the yellow and red glass window behind them. They were a sight to behold, mesmerising and frightening.

Suddenly, Ronon lifted his staff up above his shoulders to his side in preparation for an attack from Rodney that never came. Rodney had anticipated his response and realised it would leave him wide open, and so he had gone lower, his staff twisting into Ronon's legs and ripping them out from underneath him. Rodney then twisted, pulling the staff free as he did so and swinging it round to pound into Ronon's chest, pushing him back onto unsteady feet and down he went.

Sheppard watched wide eyed, drawing in a sharp breath, as Rodney's staff arched up and over through the air, whistling as it went, heading for Ronon's head. He was up and almost at Rodney's side when it landed, hitting the ground a bare millimetre from Ronon's head, stray hairs still drifting back into place; the force of the staff passing having caused them to rear up. They were both battered and bruised, with some grazes from moves that had been just a little too close. Rodney was looking down at Ronon with a huge grin. "It was a good fight."

The last words were drowned out by whooping and cheering from the gantry. It seems word had spread and plenty had seen Rodney fight. Soldiers were stunned. Scientists were whooping, some were even giggling with some manic joy, which Sheppard supposed was from watching the best scientist beat the best soldier on base, nerdrevenge, except it wasn't a scientist who had won, Rodney was a soldier now.

He looked back to Rodney. He should be proud of Rodney, he knew that, proud that he could hold his own.

But knowing what it cost him, he could only feel something break inside.

TBC.


	11. Chapter 11

**THE CYNICAL SOLDIER**

**Chapter 11 Iss 2;**

They made their way back to the infirmary. Rodney was caught up, reminiscing with Ronon over the fight, explaining strategies and exchanging compliments while Teyla looked on, smiling.

John walked next to them, watching. He flashed a convincing grin if any of them looked in his direction and it showed how emotional and caught up in Rodney's energy Ronon and Teyla were, because normally they were the first to notice it didn't touch his eyes.

Ronon was full of exuberant energy that gave his steps bounce, like Rodney walking beside him. Both their hands were moving through the air as they replicated a move or a staff's hold and all the while Teyla looked on with an indulgent smile and a sparkle in her eyes. Rodney's smile was natural and it should have eased the tightness in the pit of John's stomach, but hearing Rodney speak about fighting with the same energy and excitement he use to speak about science made him morose.

McKay strove to understand, unlocking secrets of the gods. Life, creation of the very stars themselves, he was always looking to understand, pushing the human race towards some goal that only McKay could see. To shake off the past indiscretions and be all they could be. McKay saw the beauty of science as their future.

Rodney looked to dispatch life in the quickest time, strove to understand tools that brought only death, striving to be all he could be… a killing machine, efficient and dangerous and numb.

They did have something in common still, Rodney and McKay. They both sought knowledge like a hunger, both soaked up all they learned and looked for more, insatiable.

This coupled with Rodney's exuberance was helping some, to lift John's spirits. As they made their way through the halls of Atlantis, Rodney's excitement became infectious and Sheppard's smile became more natural. Still sad inside, but seeing something so familiar after having nothing but empty air and unbearable silence for the last three months helped him to see the bigger picture.

There were four of them walking through the halls of Atlantis again, and if the subject was different, the scene at least was a familiar one. Rodney relaxed and excited, with hands moving, while his team walked alongside him, smiling with him.

And if he wasn't quite McKay yet, well it was early days, because one day, Rodney would be as excited about numbers and secrets as McKay had been. One day his friend would be whole, but for now he was alive and here, and today that was enough for John.

They walked into the infirmary like it was four months ago, relaxed and together with a smile on every face.

Sheppard glanced across the infirmary to see Carson look up and saw the joy in his face to see them as they use to be, whole again. He smiled in return as Carson handed off the file to the nurse he had been talking to, and as Carson started towards them, John returned his attention to Rodney, who was asking Ronon about a fighting move.

Carson's voice pulled Sheppard's attention back to him as he neared the group, "well, well. You looked as if you've all had fun, wha…" Carson broke off suddenly as he reached out and gripped Rodney by the chin, pushing his face gently from side to side as he exclaimed, "Bloody hell, lad! What happened to ya, Rodney?" His voice part anger and part sympathy as he winced at the bruises and grazes on Rodney's face.

Teyla, Ronon and Sheppard froze. _Oh God._

Rodney glared at him while he batted Carson's hand away, but the moment he was free of the grip the glare morphed into a grin, "Just sparring," he said as he shrugged a little, "with him," he said as he nodded at Ronon. John wanted to shout _'shut up you idiot' _and cringe, but daren't close his eyes around an angry Carson.

Ronon took a step back, which earned a confused glance from Rodney, but his attention soon returned to the Doc when Carson exclaimed in a high, disbelieving voice, "My God lad, you sparred with Ronon!"

Rodney nodded, clearly confused over the fuss Carson was making.

Carson shook his head and pointed to the nearest bed, "Go over there, I'll be over to check your injuries in a minute."

"But…" Rodney began.

"Rodney. Please. Just go. I have a few words to say to these people before I come over there." Carson said as his eyes swept over them and John felt like a five year old in front of his mom again, and judging by Teyla and Ronon's nervous moves, the feeling was an intergalactic one.

Rodney's brow creased, but some survival instinct must have kicked in because he went. He pulled himself up onto the side of the bed, kicking his heels as he watched them, intrigue and confusion warring for precedence on his face as Carson swung back to them.

"This is'nae a splinter he has," Carson's voice was unusually quiet and with the anger bringing out his thick accent, he actually sounded scary. "He has amnesia, that's an injury to the head in case you forgot an' you spar with 'im?! A knock ta the head could cause irreparable damage. I'm having enough trouble trying to fix 'im as it is and you take him…" Carson clamped his jaw tight and took a steadying breath. Two of them were smart enough to keep quiet.

"I didn't aim for his head," Ronon mumbled, the tone hurtful.

Carson swung to him, jabbing his finger into the air above his chest. "You would'nae have ta lad. It could be a fall, an accident." Carson sighed, anger easily abated when it wasn't a normal emotion for the man. Even worse though, when it was replaced with disappointment, "I trusted you to protect him." And didn't that just make the guilt pulse through Sheppard.

Carson's hands fell down to his sides wearily as he continued, "I know that you're excited to have him back, but you forget, you're not the only ones. He's my friend too," he pointed a finger at them as he continued, voice turning hard again, "and, by God, if you've damaged him, if you've… I'll never forgive you for it."

This was definitely worse than when he was five because he was older now, he should know better and Carson was right. What had he been thinking, allowing Rodney to fight? Just because he didn't wear bandages didn't mean he wasn't injured. He'd been an idiot, like Carson said, getting caught up in his emotions. All three of them nodded remorsefully, full of guilt that they may have lost him again and by their own hands.

Then there was the other guilt, because yeah, he did forget that Carson was Rodney's friend as well and had actually known him longer. Rodney was part of their team and they all considered him theirs. It was stupid and childish, but that's the way it was. Rodney was a part of them, and sometimes they forgot to share him.

Suddenly he remembers that he never asked Carson once how he was doing. When they thought Rodney was dead, he had raged against the skies, felt the loss in his soul and had never once considered that someone outside the team might feel that too. He never considered that Carson was hurting just as bad, and had never asked him. So, yeah, guilt.

"I'm sorry Carson. We were so caught up in ourselves we left you to mourn alone…"

Carson cut him off sharply, "It was you who mourned alone, Colonel. I had plenty of people to share our loss." He sighed deeply, forcing his anger aside. "Look, that's in the past. I'm talking about now. What were you thinking, you could have killed him."

Teyla stepped forward. Lovely calm and articulate Teyla, thought John in relief because he had no words to explain himself. He watched her place a hand on Carson's bicep as she spoke, "We would never knowingly hurt Rodney. You know that Carson, what he means to us, what it means to have him back. We won't make that mistake again, I promise you."

Carson seemed to sense the depth their sorrow, because he just nodded. "Yes, well. Just think next time, okay?"

They all nodded in response. None of them said anything more, what was there to say? Sorry just didn't cover it. Carson must have decided that that was enough because he indicated the bed behind Rodney. "Go take a seat, Ronon. I'll get a nurse to clean you up. It looks as if you got as good as you gave."

Ronon nodded and walked over to sit on the bed behind Rodney. Carson moved over to Rodney as he alerted one of the nurses to come clean up Ronon. Sheppard and Teyla paused before following and shifted nervously, unsure if they were welcome by Carson in his domain, but unwilling to leave Rodney again so soon.

Carson sighed, "Oh for goodness sake," he said in exasperation, pointing to the chairs between Rodney's and Ronon's beds', "take a seat you two."

Carson asked Rodney to remove his jacket as he pulled a wheeled trolley over to them, prepping cotton buds and cleaning solutions. He looked over Rodney's torso and took hold of Rodney's face again, checking the surface damage was only that before starting.

As he turned and doused the cotton bud in the solution he spoke, with a quick admonishing glance to Sheppard and Teyla. "Someone should have told you, Ronon always wins." Carson raised the cotton bud to his grazed temple but Rodney jerked back. Sheppard saw Rodney's back stiffen and had no doubt that Rodney was glaring at the good doctor when he spoke, firm and intense, "I won."

Carson froze with eyes wide. "You won?" The doctor looked to John for confirmation, so he nodded in response and couldn't help a wry smile adorning his face. Carson swung his eyes to look at Ronon, over Rodney's shoulder. Ronon nodded as Carson looked over his injuries anew, knowing Rodney of all people inflicted them.

"Well, quite the little soldier, aren't we?" Carson said, disappointment clear. Innocent little words like that really shouldn't have hurt as much as they did.

Sheppard also noticed that Carson hadn't looked Rodney in the face when he said it. Oh yeah, he was still pissed and Sheppard understood entirely. Rodney relaxed though and Carson continued his administrations in silence.

He didn't say another word until he was finished. Pushing the trolley to the side, he beckoned Rodney off the bed. "Come on, I want to scan you, just to be sure. Even if they didn't hit your head, you may still have sustained some damage." He walked over to the scanner with Rodney trailing behind him. When he indicated the scanner, Rodney climbed on quietly, but still glaring at the indisposition.

Sheppard had trailed along as well, watching. As usual his patience ran out and he had to ask, "Carson? Did we…?" He couldn't bring himself to ask but he had to know. He swallowed and tried again. "Did we hurt him?" he asked in a quiet voice, the emotion bleeding through.

Carson was silent for a moment, perfectly still and Sheppard's world started to shake at its very foundations before Carson spoke again. "No, there is no damage." As Sheppard was taking a relived sigh and trying to settle the shaking inside, Carson turned to him and continued.

Carson sighed, sounding so weary. "We were lucky, Colonel. I lost him once and I don't intend to do that again. From now on, _if_ I allow you to take him from the infirmary again, you will follow my instructions to the letter. I won't let his life depend on luck, are we clear, Colonel?"

Sheppard nodded and took a step closer so he stood next to Carson. He was aware that Rodney was looking on, curious, and he might not do this very well but sorry was not enough. Something had to be said, even if it was inadequate.

"You were right, Carson. I forgot, we forgot." He glanced over at Teyla and Ronon before turning back to Carson. "We let our emotions overrule our senses. He was so enthusiastic about sparring and I just wanted to see him smile again. I had no idea it would turn into an actual fight, I had no idea he could fight, not like that. I should have stopped it as soon as it became serious. To think we nearly… I couldn't…," Sheppard took a deep, steadying breath and locked intense eyes with Carson, "I won't let that happen again and I'll think about every action. I'll wrap him in bubble wrap if I have to. I won't risk his life again." He waited, allowing Carson to take the measure of him and his words. He wasn't normally so open but he had hurt Carson, and he needed him to know he was sincere.

Carson nodded. "Glad to hear it, Colonel. I couldn't do that again either. You made a mistake, one you won't make again. Now, I think that's enough said on the subject." Carson turned and indicated for Rodney to follow him as he spoke softly, voice full of warmth again, "Let's get you back in to bed, Rodney."

Rodney trailed behind, looking deep in thought, as he looked between Carson and Sheppard. When they reached his cubicle, Carson pulled the curtains around, passing a new set of scrubs to Rodney, before guiding him behind the curtains.

They waited outside until Rodney pulled one curtain back and watched him climb into bed as Carson moved in and closed the other curtain.

Not a minute too soon either as lunch arrived. They all looked to Carson to check they were still invited. "Och, don't be so silly," was his invite to stay and they jumped at the chance to accept with grateful smiles.

Thankfully, Ronon and Rodney were smart enough not to discuss the fight, unfortunately this didn't leave a lot of conversation given that Rodney couldn't remember anything about them before yesterday, so any topic would have left him on the sidelines.

Their reprieve to the silence came in the form of Elizabeth, who it seems Carson had also invited to lunch. "I thought, given that no one seems willing to leave Rodney's side, we could have an informal briefing here."

"You found something in my blood," Rodney asked, though it was more a statement than a question. He sat up eagerly.

Carson smiled, "Yes, Rodney. We've found a chemical which we think has been acting as a blocker for memory retrieval. We think we've also produced a counteragent that can remove this chemical from your system. We will be starting preliminary trials," he paused to check his watch, seemingly surprised at the time, "about now actually.

"We're going to treat different samples and see how our agent affects them, not only to check for a success rate, but also to ensure there are no side affects.

Carson looked at Rodney, hesitantly, "Look, I know you're impatient, but this is a good thing. I don't want to put drugs into your system if I don't have to, and I won't put untested drugs into your system, before you ask. I'm going to give it all the time it needs and I'd like to take that time to ensure that your memory isn't going to get better by itself. The mind is amazing, Rodney, and I'd like to give it a chance."

"And if it doesn't?" Rodney asked.

Carson sighed, hearing the bite in Rodney's voice. "I'll assess your current memories today and then again tomorrow and we'll gauge the differences, look for any improvement. If there is an improvement then we will wait and see if the chemical leaves your system naturally. If there is no improvement, and the trials are successful, then we will use the new drug, once the trials are complete, okay?"

Rodney was quiet, contemplating and eventually he nodded, "Okay."

Carson put his finished food to one side, "Now, there is one more thing. When we found you, you had managed to escape. I presume that you had found a way to ignore their commands. This could be a sign of your body breaking down the chemical, so I want to know if you could tell us how that came about, how you escaped, Rodney. Anything at all you can tell us?"

**********************

Like an epiphany, Rodney realised the truth. He knew he wasn't hiding his emotions very well, could feel his eyes open wide. He knew he was staring but couldn't seem to stop anymore than he could hold back the fear.

"Rodney? What's wrong?" Carson asked gently.

_Is this what it's all been about? Did they do these things to me? Handed me to those monsters? What if all this is just to figure out how I beat them? _He shook his head adamantly, "no, I can't. I won't…" he clicked his mouth shut abruptly but continued in his head, _I won't tell you how to break me, how to cage me, I won't._

"You don't have to go into details, Rodney," Carson said sincerely, voice full of compassion, "maybe just the bits that could help your recovery?"

Rodney glanced quickly at the exits and wondered if he could make it. He saw John follow his gaze and when he looked at John'sface he saw the realization. John knew what he was planning. He saw John lean forward and jerked away from him, thinking John meant to hold him while they found something to restrain him with, but John merely spoke softly, "We're your friends, Rodney. You can tell us what's wrong, you can tell us anything."

And Rodney found himself captivated by John's face, by the hurt that was followed quickly by the earnest worry in his eyes, and Rodney felt his heart breaking. _I wanted this to be true. Friends. I thought I'd found my place amongst you and, oh God, how I want it to be true._

He wanted to be here, amongst these people, so badly. What if he did manage to escape and this was real. What if he threw this away when he could have it all? Friends, who cared about him, clearly loved him.

"Would you rather do this with just the two of us," Carson asked hesitantly and Rodney actually considered saying yes. He could easily defeat Carson, although Ronon had been easily cowed by Carson earlier and Rodney had only just beaten Ronon. He saw that the offer made John tense up and knew he wouldn't go far enough for a clean get away.

"Just give me a minute. I just need a minute to think." Rodney looked at them. He looked at each of them in turn and realised as much as he wanted to be free, he wanted this more. He wanted to be missed, cared for, protected… loved. But, if he wanted it, he would have to risk everything.

He still hesitated, the magnitude of what he was about to do freezing the words in his throat. He realised even if he was having trouble with the words, he had already made his decision. Fear settled heavy in his stomach, hands becoming clammy with nerves. Indecision stuttered his words. He forced them out. "Right, here goes," he paused again, heart beating wildly. He took a steadying breath in and out and then he risked everything and followed his heart.

"I started doing things before I was ordered, initially because it helped me to convince myself I was in control." He gave a bitter laugh at his own delusions. "But, over time, the guards became lax, not bothering to order me to climb onto the table, or follow them here or there, just knowing that I would."

Rodney paused, contempt entered his voice, "Milton never forgot, but I found that by choosing to follow their commands, I seemed to gain a modicum of control. Nothing major and Milton was still harder to resist. I think because he never stopped with the commands, but the guards became easier to defy, though I could only test it in small degrees, lest I gave myself away. Little things; a slight hesitation before obeying, four paces instead of three, pausing for just a second while following them, little things."

Rodney had control of his emotions, but his heart still beat wildly. He risked a glance at the people around him, but still couldn't glean if it had been worth the risk.

"I decided that Milton was too hard to resist, so when I was ready to make my move, I waited until he had gone for the night and there was only me and the guard. They didn't have doors on their cells, didn't think they needed them, so I just walked out. The guard, he told me to go back to my cell. He didn't even reach for his gun, so secure was he that I would just do as he said. By the time he realised I wasn't going to obey, I had already broken his neck."

He looked up at the small gasp and saw Elizabeth covering her mouth, but he could see the shock and sympathy in her eyes. It didn't give him a definitive answer, but when he looked at the warriors he saw determination and acceptance. There was a little pain in John and Teyla's eyes which could be for the man he killed, or because he had killed. They had shown over the last two days, if they were to be believed, that they found the idea of him killing painful and it swayed him to thinking he had made the right decision.

"The place wasn't heavily guarded. I presume they didn't think it was needed. I came across a few more guards and killed them all as I went. Just as I opened the door to the outside I heard the PA system commanding all inmates to return to their cells. It was Milton's voice. They must have called him back, or maybe it was a recording, I just don't know, but I… I almost turned back then. The compulsion was so strong, even though I knew what they would do. As I moved, my hand slipped from the heavy door and it fell shut. The force of it making me jump, it must have been soundproofed." His voice turned derisive and bitter as he hypothesised, "probably so our screams didn't keep the good towns people awake."

He pursed his lips as he brought himself back on track. "As soon as the door blocked the speakers, I lost the compulsion. I was worried they might have a speaker system outside, that I wouldn't be so lucky next time. I left the building and the town as soon as I could, disappearing into the jungle just outside the town. I just kept going and going till exhaustion dropped me where I stood."

He risked a glance at them. Their faces said they were still his friends, but his heart was still beating fast, almost painfully as he continued. "The rain woke me up and just in time. I was trying to plan what I was going to do next when a single man appeared on the track I had been using. I had managed to drag myself off the path before I had collapsed so he never saw me, hidden in the undergrowth."

He swallowed, his mind returning to the things he had done. "I just meant to stop him, maybe question him so I could decide what to do, but once I started, I couldn't stop. All the anger, hate and pain, he answered for all of it. There… there, er, there wasn't a lot left that was recognisable when I had finished. He never stood a chance." There was shock and pity in their eyes, except for Ronon, who held pride and acceptance in his eyes; understanding.

"I took all the tools he had and moved on. More followed, he must have been the scout. At first I just tried to keep ahead of them, but soon realised they were not going to stop. One by one, I stopped them, all seven of them. It took me nearly two weeks to kill them without risk of getting caught. I hoped each death would stop them, but they kept coming. If I'm honest I think a part of me was glad, thought they deserved the deaths I gave them. During this time I realised the compulsion to obey had gone. I actually spoke to the last man before I killed him and he had no control over me. He begged me not to kill him, but I didn't even hesitate when the time came."

He paused, he had told them everything. No reason to hold back now. "Although the compulsion had gone, none of the memories returned. The idea of facing Milton again scared me. I was terrified that the compulsion might still work with him, but I had no recourse, nowhere else to turn and I needed answers. I started to make my way back to town which took me a little over a week."

He turned to look at John, "I followed him from the installation to his house, that's where you found me. I had only arrived the night before."

Rodney looked into his lap, embarrassed that he had been stupid. _So stupid, stupid_. "He told me that they did this," he waved a hand vaguely at his head, "to criminals, so they could return them to society. He said that I had come to him willingly because I couldn't live with what I had done. He told me that my team had died and that I felt responsible." He looked at John, Ronon and Teyla as he continued, "When he told me about my team I got a flash of memory. I couldn't hold on to it, it was gone in an instant, but I think that was you three. The next day when I saw you, I didn't get any images, just senses. I sensed I could trust you." _Please don't let me be wrong._

"As he spoke I had senses, vague images, feelings of things, although the name he gave me meant nothing, everything else seemed to click. That's what made me think that he was telling the truth, that's why I was going back with him the next day, when I saw you. When I think… think what I nearly did, that I nearly followed him back there." He took a ragged breath and continued. "One phrase he said in particular, 'to make recompense for those who died'." He hesitated, fearful of the answer before he continued in a quiet voice, "Did I do something, something bad? Did I kill someone I wasn't supposed too?"

"God, no, Rodney," Sheppard said earnestly, reaching forward to lay a hand on his forearm, eyes intense and full of compassion. "It's true people have died, and yes, you always felt responsible, but they didn't die by your hand, Rodney. Your hands are clean. You would never intentionally hurt anyone, unless it was in self defense. I can understand why you would feel that way, we all feel responsible for those who died under our command, but we make recompense by making sure it doesn't happen again, not by throwing our lives away, Rodney. Your place is here, it's _always_ been here."

Rodney nodded the relief palpable. He felt a squeeze on his arm and looked down to find Sheppard's hand, already retreating as the panic flared. _They had their hands on him._ He had been so wrapped up in his emotions that he hadn't felt it there and he really couldn't afford to lose awareness like that. Sheppard was already leaning back, so the panic subsided to a fluttering palpitation in his stomach, and if he pulled his arm in a little closer to his torso, nobody said anything.

He looked at Carson, anything to take the attention from himself as he said the first thing that came to mind, "Was there anything that helped you?"

Carson pursed his lips, thinking. "From what you are saying, some of the things subsided with time, but more quickly the more you were absent from them. Now, this could just be because of the lack of downloads, or it could be because of something you ate. Your diet during those weeks could have contained something that was a natural counteragent for the drug. Can you remember what you ate?"

Rodney shrugged, "all sorts, small animals that I snared in the forest, berries and fruit. I drank from the rainwater that collected in the plants or the rocks. I rarely ate the same thing two days running. I can't think of anything that was consistent, except for the rainwater."

"Hmmm," Carson hummed as he tapped the pen against the board, "We will see if our trials are successful. If they fail then maybe we could send a team to get some samples of the water and the diet you had. Drinking water from the rocks interests me immensely as the water may have contained minerals from the rock. I think, as long as the team stay away from the towns and are cloaked, the danger would be minimal?" he queried as he looked between Sheppard and Elizabeth. Sheppard nodded, but Elizabeth paused before answering.

"We still don't know everything about their technology. We will also need to confirm when the auction closes as we may not have access to their gate after that. However, I would only authorise a team as a last resort. While we are confirming the cut off date for access let's see how the trials go and then we will discuss it again, if necessary."

Rodney spoke, a mixture of exasperation and anger. "So, let me get this straight. I have to wait until the trials are done, then if they aren't successful, I have to wait for a team to collect samples and then wait for those trials, and if they aren't successful, I have to wait for you to think of something else?"

Carson laid a hand on the end of the bed, leaning forward. "Rodney, you are healthy. Apart from the memory loss, you are actually in better shape than you have ever been. I know it must be frightening, not truly knowing who we are, where you are. Especially after everything you have been through and it must be hard to trust us. I understand that you want your memories back now, but it just can't be done. If we rush, we could do more damage than good. I am hopeful that the drugs we are currently trying will work, but I won't take the chance with your life. It will take as long as it takes, but we will fix it, I promise you that."

Rodney studied him. He wasn't going to budge any more now than he was this morning. The doctor would wait until everything was tried and tested before he would inject Rodney with the drug, and he was just going to have to wait.

They thought they understood, but they didn't or they would know that even now, after all that they had done, he couldn't help wondering if they had done this, if this was just them stalling for time. If this was just something to keep his hopes up, while they assessed him and catalogued him before they hurt him again. The voice inside said it was okay, but he still wasn't sure if the voice inside was him or something they had put there. He felt lost and scared _all_ the time. Always waiting, waiting for that memory that would tell him it was over, that he was safe. He was so tired, never fully relaxing. He just wanted to sleep and not worry about who to trust and who not to trust. He just wanted a quick fix, to know, one way or another if this is where he belonged.

A thought came, unbidden. His heart soared at the possibility, pulse racing. It was possible. He didn't see why not as he planned everything through.

He nodded to Carson, "Of course." _Careful, careful, catchy monkey. _He had no idea where that thought came from and it almost made him laugh, which did help the false smile he was courting look a little more natural. He knew the sentiment though and it was right, can't give anything away. "I'm sorry. I know you're doing all you can, and I thank you for it. It's right to wait."

Carson visibly relaxed. "Good. I'm glad you understand, Rodney."

Sheppard, however, was looking at him strangely. He didn't look in his direction and luckily Elizabeth saved him having too, as she spoke. "Well, I'm sorry I haven't been in to see you more, Rodney, but I'm just snowed under. I will find time to come and see you tonight… if that's okay with you."

He smiled genially while he thought, _damn, damn, damn. _"Yes, of course. Though, not too late if you don't mind, I get very tired at the moment."

Elizabeth smiled and she really was very pretty when she smiled. "Okay, Rodney. Not too late. I'll see you later," and with that she rose, nodding to the rest with a quick, "keep me up dated,Carson," as she left.

*********

John had been on an emotional rollercoaster and it was beginning to wear him down. He looked at his friend, he was sure he had just seen something on his face, but he couldn't discern the emotion and before he could identify it, his attention was snagged by Carson speaking. "So, I'd best get down to the labs. I'll be back shortly," he said as he rose from his seat.

John glanced at Carson, nodding, before Carson turned to walk across the infirmary. He looked back to Rodney. He watched Rodney's eyes follow Carson's progress, he saw him flinch when Rodney realised he was being watched, but noticed Rodney never took his eyes off Carson's retreating back.

"Nice man, isn't he?" Rodney said, nodding towards Carson, and it sounded off the cuff and relaxed but his eyes were not. Intense and calculating, they followed Carson's progress through the back door of the infirmary as he made his way down to the labs.

Sheppard felt a cold chill, but didn't know what to do about it, so he just answered, intensely, "Yes, he is. He's one of your closest friends, you know. You care about him very much."

"Uh huh," Rodney answered, mind concentrating on something else.

TBC

Author note: Warning: Chapter 12 maybe a little late. You have caught me up now so each chapter written, betad, amended, grammar beta'd and posted in one week....I may be a couple of days late with Chapter 12....sorry....hopefully worth the wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**THE CYNICAL SOLDIER**

**CHAPTER 12 Iss1;**

They sat with Rodney for the rest of the day. They still couldn't really talk about anything so they played games and talked about inconsequential things. They ate dinner with him. Everything seemed to be going well, which is why it came as a shock when Rodney said, "You guys don't have to stay tonight," not looking them in the eye.

John couldn't reply. He hadn't left Rodney's side since they found him and although he would have to eventually, once he knew deep down that he was safe, it just felt wrong to leave him alone right now, especially when he had been alone for so long.

"We do not mind, Rodney. We would like to stay with you," Teyla said in her eloquent, melodic tones.

There was a heavy pause and Rodney looked cornered. _Is he scared of us? _ And just the possibility of that hurt. Rodney seemed to gather himself before he spoke, "Well, I was thinking, if I am back home then I'm amongst friends and I should start to trust you, all of you. The Doc says it might take a while to get my memories back. You can't stay with me indefinitely." He gave a half laugh. It didn't sound sincere.

It was the kind of laugh McKay gave when he told the natives he really wasn't all that smart and no, he didn't know how to build bombs, or that he really wasn't all that important. In short, it was the nervous chuckle that he gave when he was out and out lying.

Trouble was that it left them nowhere. They couldn't call him on it and they couldn't ignore his request and stay. Teyla glanced at John, she had recognised it too. She smiled serenely and he recognised that one too. That was the 'placate the insane natives' smile. "We will not stay indefinitely, but what is one more night? We know that everything is still strange to you, Rodney. There is no shame in seeking comfort, not when we would gladly stay with you."

"Thank you, Teyla, but I have to do this sometime so I may as well do it now, before I become too dependant on you, before I have to have you here just in order to sleep."

And that was that. They had to go. Teyla nodded gently, "Okay, Rodney. If that is what you truly want," and John could hear how hurt she was that Rodney was lying to them, and surprisingly, judging by his guilty look, so could Rodney.

"I am sorry, Teyla. But this is something I really need to do." His blue eyes looked intently into hers, and the conviction was loud and clear, and for once, obviously from the heart.

Teyla nodded, "Okay, Rodney." She nodded, this time her smile was a little easier, "We will leave you. Sleep well."

Ronon stood still, arms crossed, staring at Rodney. Teyla placed a hand on his crossed forearms. "Ronon," she said softly, but sternly, with underlying affection.

"No," Ronon said, plain and simple. John heard everything that was unsaid, because the same thoughts were going round in his head. _What if something happens and we're not here to save him, what if we lose him again. I don't want to go, I want to stay here where I can see him breathe and know he's okay. I don't want to go._

"It's not our choice, Ronon," Teyla told him, her voice heartfelt and sympathetic. "Come."

Ronon clenched his jaw but turned to leave. When they reached the infirmary door, they turned and waited for John.

He tried to make eye contact, but Rodney was studiously avoiding it. _Just what are you up to now, Rodney?_ He sighed, frustrated. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay, buddy?"

Rodney glanced up at him, seeming suddenly relieved. "Yeah, John, see you tomorrow morning," he lifted a hand with a small wave and finally made eye contact.

"If you change your mind, Rodney, just call us, we'll be here, okay."

Rodney paused and then nodded, "Sure."

John nodded and left. He joined Teyla and Ronon, but stopped them halfway up the hallway. "He's up to something, I'm sure of it," he said quietly, casting a glance towards the infirmary doors as he spoke. "Can both of you stay here till I double the detail? And I need to speak to Zelenka to fix the jumper bay, make it McKay proof, if that's possible. I'll double the guard duty there too, just in case. Okay?"

They nodded, moving away to blend into shadowed niches in the well lit hallway. Honestly, if he thought about it too much, they were just a little too scary ninja. He radioed Lorne while he made his way to the labs.

Secure in the knowledge that all of the exit points would be taken care of, he accompanied Zelenka to the jumper bay to check security before returning to Teyla and Ronon to organise shifts between the three of them. It wasn't that he didn't trust his marines, but this was Rodney. The team always looked out for Rodney.

He was informed that Elizabeth was already in with Rodney. Teyla left for her quarters to sleep before her watch. John stayed with Ronon. He would have to update Elizabeth as to why every exit from the infirmary had a double detail on it and why Zelenka was working in the jumper bay, with yet another double guard detail.

**********************

Elizabeth sat down next to Rodney's bed, "Hello, Rodney."

"Hello…," he gave a tight smile, "Hi." _Should he just say out right that he can't remember her name?_ He knows she introduced herself that first day, but with so much going on and so much happening since, he just can't remember her name. He tried to remember if anyone had used it at the briefing that morning but his thoughts were derailed as she spoke again.

She was smiling at him, an indulgent smile quirking her lips, "In case you don't remember, my name is Elizabeth Weir."

_That was it. _He smiled widely at her, waving a hand vaguely at his head, "Sorry," he said with a guilty shrug of his shoulders.

"No, Rodney. You have nothing to be sorry for. That first day must have been overwhelming for you, it probably still is."

Rodney huffed a laugh. "You could say that. One minute I'm told my name is Tomas and I'm following like a lamb to the slaughter to get my mind wiped and the next, my name is Rodney and I live in this amazing place, surrounded by people who missed me. People I don't even know keep telling me they're glad I'm back."

"We are, Rodney. When I think about how close we came to losing you…," her eyes glazed with unshed tears. She swallowed thickly and croaked a half laugh, "Sorry, mostly I just try not to think about it."

He couldn't look away from her eyes and the emotions so blatant on her face. To think that she could feel like that, at just the thought of losing him. He still couldn't reconcile the feelings these people had for a man like him, for a killer.

"Are you sure I'm the guy you're missing?" He asked hesitantly. The thought had been repeating in his mind. They seemed so sure, and yet they didn't seem to actually know him at all, always shocked when he displayed violence.

Her eyebrows climbed up her face in surprise, followed by a smile. "Yes, Rodney. We're sure it's you. There is only one Rodney McKay." The smile that quirked her lips implied there was more hidden behind those words, an inner joke that he just didn't get. "What makes you think that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "You all seem sure, but I just don't remember anything. That first day, there were snatches of memory, images moving so fast I couldn't capture a single one, like trying to hold onto fog. It was a little overwhelming, but nothing since. I wonder sometimes if the things here just remind me of home, maybe I come from somewhere similar and just happen to look like your guy." He shrugged again, self conscious. "The guy must be something special, you know, to have so many people miss him and I just have a hard time believing that I _am_ that guy, I don't feel special at all."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and actually looked as if she was trying not to smile. He frowned at her. "I'm sorry. I don't mean anything by it." She bit her bottom lip smiling. "It's just that, well, you normally have a little bit of an ego. You're always telling me how amazing you are, and to be honest, you _are_ a little bit amazing. Carson says that we shouldn't tell you anything about yourself. He says that the memories should all come from you. So, I can't really tell you, except to say that you _are_ that guy, Rodney. We all know you and we couldn't mistake anyone else for you. Believe me when I say, you are unique, you are one of a kind."

He nodded. He was relieved that she seemed so sure. He still couldn't reconcile 'amazing' with himself. Going around telling people that you're amazing sounded like he was a bit full of himself, which again didn't reconcile with everyone's reaction to him, because surely that had to be annoying. Then again, if Sheppard was anything to go by, maybe none of these people reacted normally.

He just wanted to know _now_. He'd had enough of waiting. One answer just led to more questions, and if no one was going to tell him anything about himself, then it could take months or even years even to learn everything he use to be. It definitely confirmed his decision to go through with his plan. No more waiting.

"You never were a patient man, Rodney," Elizabeth said softly, and for an awful moment he thinks maybe she can tell what he's planning, but before he can say anything, she just continues. "I know this is going to be hard for you, to wait for the answers. If I know you, like I think I do, you probably have a hundred questions already and not knowing the answer to just one question would annoy you until you did get it. This is probably killing you."

He shrugged, "What can you do?" He said, hoping he didn't give himself away. "Not as if I have any other options," he said carefully. He needed to change this line of conversation and quickly, this was too dangerous. "If we can't talk about me, can we talk about you? What do you do here?"

She smirked. "I'm head of the expedition, Rodney. I'm your boss," and she chuckled at his 'O' impression.

"Expedition?" He queried, and then frowned, unsure if he had the correct meaning for the word. "Isn't that like going on a long trip somewhere."

She nodded, smiling, "Oh yes, that's exactly what it is, but I can't really go into that as it would lead to a lot of dead ends that would just infuriate you. I can tell you the basics though. I can tell you that we aren't from here. We came here from our planet to this abandoned city. We came to find its secrets and we found a home. You thrived here, Rodney. You found friends and some think you found magic. You're a natural at this, Rodney. You shine in Atlantis, and I've never known you to be as happy as you have been here, even with its dangers."

He frowned sharply, "Dangers?"

Elizabeth shoulders sloped as she deflated, sighing, "See, it's hard to say anything that won't lead to questions that I can't answer. I'm sorry, Rodney.

Rodney shrugged, desolately. Then he looked at Elizabeth out of the corner of his eyes and said softly, "How about if I promise not to tell anyone?"

She huffed a laugh, smirking. "No, Rodney. I want you to get better, I won't risk that. Doctor knows best."

Rodney huffed, frustrated but not angry. He couldn't be angry at Elizabeth. She was all soft edges and surprisingly easy to talk to. He felt like he could tell her anything, well, most things. He was annoyed that she wouldn't tell him anything though, that no one would tell him anything. They didn't seem to understand how lost he felt, how alone he felt when he only had the words of strangers to promise he belonged here.

The amount of trust it took, and the amount of restraint not to just take someone and ask the questions he wanted. He could do it so easily, he had learnt things, he was sure he could get the answers he needed. The only thing holding him back was that if they were telling the truth then he could actually hurt someone he cared about, without even realising it. No, it was better to stick to his original plan.

"I heard about your fight with Ronon," Elizabeth said, more to change the subject Rodney thought. "You're the talk of Atlantis, well to be honest, you were already the talk of Atlantis, coming back from the dead and all, but definitely surprised a few people… again."

Rodney frowned and then he remembered, "Carson said he always wins." It was half a statement and half a question for clarification.

She nodded. "Teyla's beaten him before, but you're the only from our homeworld to do so." She smiled widely, "It's going down in the history books. Mind you, so will the scientist's victory party by all accounts, and it's only been going for two hours."

"Why are the scientists throwing a party? Don't they like Ronon?"

"You're one of them, Rodney. You're head scientist on Atlantis, one of their own. They are celebrating your victory."

"I'm not a soldier?"

Elizabeth shrugged, "You didn't come here as a soldier, but some would argue that you are, to a certain extent. You definitely fight on the front lines, but underneath it all, you've always remained the scientist," her expression turned sad, "I didn't think anything could ever change that, I couldn't ever imagine you being anything else."

"I don't know what to think about that, to be honest."

She smiled, "Well, I can safely say that you've always been honest, almost to a fault," and there was that smile again, that spoke of jokes hidden behind the words. "We'll fix you Rodney, but I wanted you to know… whoever you are at the end of the ordeal, you will always have a place here."

He looked up at her, and couldn't help the words spilling out in surprise, "Even if I'm a killer?"

"Rodney, you only hurt people who threatened you. You've always had a hand in hurting our enemy, but only those who threatened us. Admittedly, never with a gun, never so personal, but I believe you're in there. That underneath, you're still you and I don't believe you would hurt us. You found your place amongst us once, you will do so again."

He nodded, "Thank you."

Carson interrupted then, "Hello Rodney. Elizabeth," he said as he approached the bed.

Rodney nodded in acknowledgment, eyes drawn to the equipment in his hands. Elizabeth noticed it to. She let her hands fall heavy on her thighs before she rose. "Well, I'd best be going. I'll see you tomorrow, Rodney. Sleep well."

"Night Elizabeth," he said, watching her leave her chair, but turning back to Carson before she reached the exit, "What's with the… that?" he asked as he waved towards the paraphernalia in Carson's hands.

Carson smiled, "I said I wanted to record your current memories, Rodney. I need a base line to judge your improvements by."

"Well, that's simple, I don't have any."

"Rodney, things have been hectic. Maybe you just haven't been still long enough to realise with so many other things to worry about. Also, I need to check your current levels of memory retrieval." At Rodney's sigh he continued, "Humour me, old friend, ay?"

Rodney rolled his eyes, "Fine."

Carson smiled wide. He handed the pads to Rodney, telling him where to place them. It was a small thing, allowing Rodney to put the pads on himself so he didn't have to deal with trusting someone else to lay their hands on him, but it felt huge to Rodney and he appreciated the gift.

Carson asked him questions, covering his experiences from when they rescued him to now. Asked him about referring to medicine as voodoo and what had been in his mind as he said it. About when he saw the puddle jumper, the stargate, people's names, the things he had done while he was here.

"Like I said, nothing." Rodney said, a mixture of frustration and disappointment in his voice as he removed the pads, handing them to Carson one by one.

"On the contrary, Rodney, there was always the possibility that they had wiped your memories completely, that there was simply nothing to retrieve, which I now know was not the case. There is still technology out there that is beyond our comprehension and I have learnt that everything is possible. I didn't want to mention it until I was sure, one way or the other."

"How… how do you know they didn't," Rodney asked hesitantly, the pain in his chest tight with anxiety. _To never know, that would be unbearable._

"No, Rodney. Although you did not regain any memories as such from your experiences, you did sense feelings. I think this is because you can access your memories on a subconscious level, which implies that they are still in place, just inaccessible at the moment.

"How can you be sure?"

"How do you explain following your team home, Rodney? In your own words, you have no reason to trust anyone, and yet you followed strangers here, you sleep amongst strangers because something in here," Carson tapped his heart, "tells you it will be okay." He smiled wide, eyes twinkling, "which it will by the way." He looked Rodney in the eye, in doctor mode as he hypothesised. "I think that you trust us because on a subconscious level you _can_ access them and you act on senses and feelings obtained from them, even if you don't realise it."

"So, if what you are saying is true, and you believe it is, I presume that you will be waiting for more results before you administer the cure."

"We don't know for sure it's a cure, Rodney, and yes I want to wait. Maybe you will regain more memories or maybe this will remain the extent of memory retrieval. Time will tell. We will continue to assess you on a daily basis and, depending on the results of the drug trials, we will make a decision when the drug is ready whether or not to administer it. I'll discuss it with you when the time comes. We'll get there, lad.""

Rodney just nodded. He knew the futility of arguing, and besides it was a moot point, considering his plans.

"Can I pull the curtain round again? I think it will help me to relax so I'm not jumping at every movement in the infirmary. I should sleep easier."

"Isn't your team staying tonight?" Carson asked, looking at him with worry. "Has something happened, Rodney?"

"No, no. Nothing has happened. I just thought that I should learn to trust all of you, so I asked them not to stay tonight. I don't want to become dependant on them in order to sleep."

Carson studied him and he remembered Sheppard saying they were the best of friends. He suddenly panicked that Carson would see what he had been able to keep hidden from all the others but the doctor just nodded with an indulgent smile, "Okay Rodney. My shift finishes now, but if you want me just tell one of the nurses and they will call me, okay?

Rodney nodded. "I will. Thank you, Carson, for everything."

Carson blinked, and then smiled. "Any time, Rodney. Night then, I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well."

Rodney smiled and nodded, "Night Carson."

Carson pulled the curtain round Rodney's bed, nodding to him as he stepped through.

Rodney squirmed down under the covers, no-one should check on him as he didn't have any physical ailments and needed no drugs administered, but he still preferred to replicate sleep, if only to avoid questions, and so he lay down with his eyes open as he listened to his surroundings and waited.

He watched the shadows move slowly across the ceiling, watched them grow as they swallowed up the daylight. He watched until it was safe, until till the infirmary stilled to the muted sounds of the night shift.

The infirmary was silent as he pulled back the covers, he paused listening, but the only sound was his heart beating rapidly. He slipped from the bed and moved to the curtains, but he paused at its edge as he watched the night duty nurse move over to make herself a coffee, her back to him.

He realised the sound of the boiling water would cover any sound his footsteps were likely to make, though he was sure he could move silently on these smooth floors. When he was sure the timing was optimum and he felt safe, he passed between the curtains and made his way to the back of the infirmary, following the route he had watched Carson take yesterday.

He paused as the doors opened before him, checking around him quickly. When nothing moved, he crept through the doorway. Unnerved as the doors closed behind him, he kept to the shadows as he moved down the stairwell in silence, only the sound of his heart for company.

He had no idea what to expect from this point onwards, still racked with indecision. The only deciding factor had been that he wanted to know, that he couldn't wait any longer.

The doors opened again at his approach and he paused. When nothing further happened, he ventured further and found himself in a square area that was empty, like a foyer. There was just an open door opposite. He moved towards it and peered into the room beyond; a laboratory. He was here.

He darted back out and leant against the wall, heart racing. He was sure the lab assistant hadn't seen him. He stood thinking about how to proceed. He didn't want to take this man's life, but neither did he want to return to his bed empty handed. If he was discovered on the return journey he would not get another chance.

Thinking about it, this could actually work to his favour. He was going to have to search the whole lab to find the drug, but now he could get this man to show him where it was. The quicker he was with the search, the less chance of discovery and the more chance of success.

He peered into the lab, the man still had his back to him. He saw a scalpel amongst other tools that lay on every workbench. They shone in the half light of the labs. Rodney moved quietly, picking up the scalpel without a sound. He could feel the cold steel against his palm as he closed his fist around it, extending a finger along its spine. It felt good to hold a weapon again, he felt safe.

He approached without a sound. The man continued working, the noises of his work seeming loud in the still laboratory.

TBC

(Sorry - set up took longer than expected. Next chapter should be worth the wait).


	13. Chapter 13

_**Thanks again to all you lovely people who took the time to comment. Glad you are still enjoying it and I haven't lost my way. Keep thinking I'm near the end but it just keeps going. The end is in sight though.... I think.**_

**THE CYNICAL SOLDIER**

**CHAPTER 13, ISS 2;**

The lab assistant turned to his right, stretching for a datapad, and Rodney froze. He waited, feeling his heartbeat reverberate around inside his body, the outside as still as the air around him, waiting. The muscles in his legs poised to spring into action if he needed to close the distance quickly.

He gripped the scalpel a little firmer. The man closed his hand over the datapad and pulled it back into him, turning back to the work in front of him as he did so. He remained oblivious to Rodney padding quietly across the laboratory like a predator.

As Rodney neared him, he checked beyond the man for any reflective surfaces that might give him away. There was a screen to one side of the man, but the angle was wrong. He would not be seen on his approach. He knew the last moments would have to be fluid and quick, a person's natural survival instincts would alert him to anyone too close, either sensing the body heat or smell on a subconscious level.

He covered the remaining space between them, slipping a hand over the mans shoulder and across the base of his throat, pulling the stunned man to his chest as he placed the hand with the scalpel a fraction away from the side of the man's neck. He whispered in his ear, "Stay very still."

The man instinctively turned to see who was holding him and in doing so pushed his own neck against the scalpel, nicking it; he flinched away from the sharp pain as blood started to bleed into a thin line across his neck. Not dangerous, just a small surface cut, Rodney noted as he proceeded, "I told you to stay still." The man, who was just bringing up a hand to either check the cut on his neck or to grip his arm in an attempt to fight, froze at the words.

"Doctor… Doctor McKay? Is that you?"

Rodney could hear the tremor of fear in the man's voice. "So, I've been told," Rodney replied, dryly. "Carson told me about the cure, I know it's here. You will find it for me. If you try to escape, I will kill you. Is that clear?"

"But, but the cure isn't ready. We don't know if it will even work."

"I'm willing to take that risk. Now, where is it?"

"I won't tell you. It could kill you. I'm a doctor; I made an oath to protect people from harm. I can't give you an injection that might kill you. I know you, you won't kill me."

Anger flared, deep and red. "Everyone thinks they know me," he hissed in the man's ear, fist unconsciously gripping into the man's shirt. "Don't judge me by his actions, I'm not him anymore. I have killed to obtain my freedom. You have to believe me when I say I will do what is necessary for that cure."

He slipped his hand back to the man's shoulder, keeping the scalpel close to the man's neck as he turned the man round to look him in the eyes. "I want that cure and you're going to get it for me." He pushed the side of the scalpel against the man's neck so he could feel the cold metal, without cutting him. He'd had Elizabeth's words flying around his head since he spotted the man and he knew he wasn't going to kill him, he was hoping the man continued to believe he would though.

The man paled, brown eyes blown wide with fear as he gulped. Trying to keep his neck away from the scalpel, the man nodded so marginally that Rodney almost missed it. Relief flooded his system, but he didn't let it show. He needed to keep the man in a constant state of fear. If the man doubted him for just a moment he would lose control of him.

Rodney scowled at him, turning the scalpel slightly against his neck, pushing home the message he needed the man to believe before he spoke. "Where is it?"

The man stammered, "It's in the fridge, at the far end, by the entrance." He nodded towards it, or tried to stretch his neck away from the scalpel, Rodney wasn't sure.

He nodded in response as his hand slipped from the man's shoulder to his bicep, "Try anything and you will leave me with no option. Remember, I have changed, I move faster than you remember and I will not hesitate. I don't know who you are; you mean nothing to me, except for a means to obtain what I need. Do not test me or it will be the last thing you ever do. Understand?" Rodney said, low and hard.

"Yes," the man said. Just one word, but the fear was clear in it. In fact, the man seemed on the edge of tears. Rodney felt a stab in his chest, a feeling he was starting to recognise now; guilt. He pushed it away as he led the man back towards the entrance of the lab. As they neared it, he released his grip minutely, enough to allow the man to lead, rather than be led.

They stopped in front of a large fridge, with a clear door. The man looked at Rodney's hand on his bicep and then back up to his face as he slowly pulled his arm from Rodney's grip. Rodney instinctively pulled the arm back into place, before realising that the man would need both hands. "Don't try anything," he said as he loosened his grip, stepping back slightly.

The man nodded solemnly as he turned and opened up the door, reaching in for the serum. Rodney followed him as he walked over to the bench, picking up a syringe and needle, both packaged. He watched the man place the serum on the bench in order to break open the sterilised packages.

As the man fitted the needle to the syringe, Rodney reached out. He placed the scalpel down on the workbench and picked up the small bottle of serum, wanting to keep the hand closest to the man free, ready to hold him if he tried to run. He saw the man pause, for just a millisecond, eyes cutting to Rodney's hand on the bottle, before proceeding.

Rodney frowned, sure something was wrong. He pulled the bottle towards him and read the label, 'Midazolam'. He knew it, instinctively, like he knew this was called a lab and they stood next to a workbench, not a table. He knew the word and he knew what it meant; this wasn't the cure, this was a sedative.

He threw the bottle away and it sailed over the bench, hitting the edge of the one beyond. The vial's clear glass separated into a thousand pieces, each piece arching out, catching the light and turning into a thousand tiny rainbows as the liquid splashed over the surface, and dripped to the floor. Its destruction was totally unnoticed by Rodney, who had ripped the syringe from the man's hand, throwing it to the side where it slid along the bench, hitting the scalpel as it bounced, causing both to slide and spin over the edge.

Even angry as he was, Rodney noticed the loss of the scalpel, but it didn't matter, he didn't actually need a weapon to kill someone. The syringe and scalpel clattered to the floor and lay untouched as Rodney turned back and gripped the stunned man's shirt.

He spun him, pushing him against the bench so his feet were off the floor; his back was against the surface with Rodney leaning over him. Furious, almost blind with anger, "I told you, I warned you, not to try anything. I said, I told you what would happen."

"No, wait. Let me explain," the man held up his hands. "I was trying to save you."

Rodney sneered, "Save me? You were trying to put me to sleep so you could 'deal' with me."

The man sagged against the bench, no resistance at all to Rodney's fist gripped in the chest of the man's shirt. Rodney frowned and found himself listening as the man continued. "You've saved us all… so many times," the man sounded resigned, weary. "What you're asking me to do might kill you. Even, without the fact that I'm a doctor who has sworn not to do harm, we owe you our lives. I had to at least try to save yours, I owed you that much at least, more than I can ever repay at the most."

He looked Rodney in the eyes then, intense, "I'm not a killer, but you're asking me to kill you and I can't do that. I had to try, for all our sakes, for your sake," the man's head flopped back against the bench as he whispered; "I had to try."

Rodney could hear the bitter pain of failure in the man's last words. He stepped back from the man, looking at his face the whole time, taking in the sad expression of weary resignation. He could feel time ebbing away, the longer this took, the more chance he was discovered. He looked around the large laboratory, vial after vial, it would take too long by himself. He could always use force, but the man's actions so far had made the outcome suspect.

If he could convince this man how much he needed it. He realised that if a person's life was important to this man then he could convince him that by giving him this drug he was saving lives. If he could do that then maybe the man would help him.

"I need this and I think you need to know how much. I want you to understand that without this I'm lost. I don't know which way is up or which way is down, but I can still feel myself sinking." Rodney sagged against the fridges, feeling the cold seeping into the muscles in his back.

He hesitated when the man pulled himself back to his feet, thinking he was going to make a run for it, but when he just stood, watching, Rodney continued, "I don't know who to believe. I want to trust you, but you've already lied to me once," he said as he indicated the cracked syringe, the sedative seeping out onto the floor, "the risk is too great, and the darkness in here," he tapped his chest, "the man I am now, I know when you figure it out, no-one will want me here, not when they realise what I'm capable of."

He took a step back to the man, locking eyes with him, "You all want me to wait, but I don't know if I'm waiting for a cure or for you to reveal yourselves and take me back there. Every time someone comes close I want to lash out, to defend myself. You need time, but every day is another day I might hurt someone, and if this is real, they'll turn their backs on me. I need to know the truth; I need to know if I'm safe."

He cast a glance at the floor, before making eye contact again, "You think I haven't killed you because I'm the great Doctor McKay, and you're wrong. It's because I'm _trying_ to be this Doctor McKay, but I am who I am. I'm all out of trust and sooner or later someone will do something I will just react to and people will die and I'll lose everything."

The man's face was slightly angled as he watched Rodney. He interrupted voice light, "you could never lose that, Rodney. No matter what you do, they know the man you are, I know the man you are. No matter what you think, you'd never step over that line, and you will never lose what you have here."

Rodney closed the gap between them, his hand hitting the surface of the bench hard, sounding like a thunderclap in the silence of the lab, "but, damn it, I have already stepped over that line, I am still alone!" he snarled, voice hard and angry. "No one gets it! They think just because I'm here, I'm back! I'm not, I'm still lost!" He took a deep breath; he wasn't going to convince the guy like this. He forced his voice lower, tried to put a pleading edge to it. "Help me, damn it, help me before I kill someone," his voice fell to a broken whisper, "Why won't you help me?"

The man took a step towards him and Rodney tensed, glaring at him, ready to defend his freedom, regardless of Elizabeth's words. The man stopped, seeing his reaction, he spoke softly, calmly. "I'm sorry, I can't. It could kill you."

Then another option occurred to Rodney. A small curved smile graced his face before he answered his voice still hard, "Find me the cure or I'll take the first bottle I see and inject it. At least with the cure, I will have a chance. Who knows what horrible death these other vials hold for me? I'll keep going till I find it, till I've tried them all. Giving me the cure _might_ kill me; not giving it to me definitely will. Will you help me or not?"

The man had paled, swallowing audibly he looked around the fridges, obviously detailing all the dangerous chemicals in his mind, all the different ways that Rodney would die, but he still hadn't moved. "Fine, have it your way," Rodney said as he pulled open the door and pulled out the first five vials, carrying them over to the bench. He checked the labels, discarding two that he recognised and knew wouldn't help.

He reached for the syringe and needle. He saw the man turn to watch him, saw the slight tremor in his hands as he laid them on the bench, watching. "Wait," he said, just a whisper, but Rodney ignored him. Turning the vial upside down and injecting the syringe into the bottle, he started to load the syringe with the amber liquid.

"Wait!" the man said. "Okay, okay. I'll get you the vial." Rodney turned to him but didn't remove the syringe from the vial, just waited. The man sighed, resigned to his path as he turned and went to the next fridge. He pulled open the door and pulled out a vial. There was only one of its kind there and now Rodney thought about it, that sort of made sense. It's not as it they would make a large batch of the stuff when he was the only patient.

The man brought it back and placed it silently in front of Rodney. His actions slow, like they had to be forced and his expression sad. Rodney put down the vial and syringe and picked up the new bottle. He looked at the label, but it didn't mean anything to him. He looked at the man one more time, trying to see if he could discern another trick or if this was really it. He picked up the discarded syringe and vial and finished loading it with the serum.

"No, wait. Honestly," the man said as he picked up the bottle and waved it in Rodney's face, "this is the vial you want. You can't inject yourself with that, it's lethal to you. Please."

Rodney relaxed inside, more willing to believe the man now. "I am filling this vial as well. It will remain in hand's reach of me. If this second vial sends me to sleep, I will have time to inject myself with this second serum." He pulled the full syringe out of the bottle and placed it gently in front of him. He looked at the man then, "so this had better be the right bottle or you will have killed me as sure as putting a gun to my head."

The man looked him square in the eyes, "You won't need another vial. This is the serum that we hoped would cure you. I beg you, one last time. Please wait, please don't take it. It's not a cure, it's a first attempt that could kill you rather than cure you. Please trust me, you need to wait."

Rodney shook his head as he opened a new syringe and fitted the needle. He inserted the needle into the serum that could hold the answers he had longed for. As he loaded the syringe he spoke softly, "I'm all out of trust. I'm all out of compassion. I have nothing left to give. I need to know where I belong. I need to know who I am. There is nothing more important to me, and I'll even risk my life to find the answers. I can't wait any longer, I have to know."

He pulled the needle from the vial and saw the man flinch as if hit by a thought and then he was lurching forward. He grabbed the vial and smashed it to the floor. "I can't let you kill yourself. We can replace the serum, we can't replace you," and then he was lunging for the needle.

Shock had frozen Rodney where he stood, but when the man reached for the last of the serum, still in the syringe, he pulled it out of his reach, growling.

He stepped to the side as his free hand reached towards the man's back and pulled, anger giving him more force than required, turning it into a push as the man passed him. The man stumbled, arms wheeling as he tried to get his balance, he tilted to the side and went down. His head hit the cabinet on the way down and hit the floor, bouncing off the surface to land again with a loud crack.

Rodney stood, syringe still held high and safe, staring at the limp body. He was relieved to see the chest was still rising and falling. He wanted to check, but he couldn't risk the last of the serum. He turned and stepped over to the bench, not wasting any time as he prepped himself for the injection. He found the vein. He hesitated slightly, casting a quick glance over the man laying limp not two paces from him, but then he head footsteps. Someone was coming down the stairs, and fast. He quickly inserted the needle and pushed the plunger down, watching the liquid disappear into his veins.

He pulled the needle free and placed it on the bench, flexing his elbow to push the drug further into his system. It started off just as a low heat, almost unnoticeable. He placed a hand over the injection point, applying pressure in the hopes it would alleviate the burning. The burn started to increase until he could follow the drug running through his system, leaving a wake of fire. It went through his shoulder and hit his spine and the fire increased. It felt like he was burning alive and he gripped the workbench for support as he pushed his chest out, arching his back as he tried to get away from the pain.

He could feel it travelling towards his skull, towards his brain and he felt fear, so strong he nearly sobbed with it. He heard running feet skidding to a halt in front of him and opened his eyes - eyes that he hadn't even realised he had closed. He saw John, saw his face, fearful and desolate, saw John's hand reaching out to him.

"John," he whispered, voice taut and hoarse with pain, "help me." The fire hit his skull and all he felt was searing heat and pain, wave after wave and he was screaming, he couldn't stop, screaming against the pain that suffused every part of his body and then there was darkness that he greeted gratefully, allowing it to surround him in the cool darkness without a fight.

*************

John makes his way to the infirmary hallway. Still shaking off the grogginess of sleep and the half lit hallways isn't making the job any easier. He does like walking through Atlantis at this time though. It's quiet and peaceful and the halls light up for him and only him and he always feels closest to Atlantis at these times.

He walks into the hallway outside the infirmary and looks for Ronon, who's stood in the dim lights of the hallway and John can't help but get the impression Ronon's only just this minute made himself visible, out in the open, just so John can see him.

John nods. "Anything?" he asks. He's been nervous since he left the infirmary and he can't decide if it's a sudden attack of the second sight or just not being able to see Rodney.

Ronon shakes his head. "No. I've just checked with the other teams, they haven't seen anything."

John nods and then throws his chin in the direction of the infirmary door, "Is he sleeping?"

Ronon shrugs, "He asked for the curtain to be pulled round him, said he would sleep easier, according to Carson."

John frowns, "But you've actually been in and checked he's there?"

Ronon frowns back. "No need. No one has seen him leave. Why would he leave his bed when he has nowhere to go?"

"I don't know," John replies patiently, "but this is McKay we're talking about. I never underestimate him. I'm going to check on him. If he's sleeping, he won't even know I'm there."

"And if he's not sleeping," Ronon asks, annoyingly, thinks John.

"Then I'll tell him that I just came to check he's okay and then I'll leave," John says, not meeting Ronon's eyes. Then he sighs and looks Ronon in the face, "I can't stand here looking at a curtain till I know for sure he's behind it. He's surprisingly sly," John adds with a frown. "Wait here till I get back, just in case."

He walks into the infirmary and makes his way quietly to the curtain. He reaches out a hand, hesitating. It seemed so clear out in the hallway, but now he feels silly and worried he'll wake Rodney for no good reason. He thinks about just dropping it and going back out to the hallway, and then he catches Ronon moving into the doorway of the infirmary, watching him, and knows he has to go through with it now.

He takes the curtain in his hand as quietly as he can, but can't help the sounds of the material crinkling slightly under his fingers as he holds it. He brings it up and to the side, careful not to disturb the curtain rings on the rail above as the noise might wake Rodney. He peers in, he sees the empty bed, with the covers pulled back, but it still takes a little longer for his brain to process that he's actually right, that Rodney's gone.

He lets the curtain fall and raises a hand to his ear as he throws a glare at Ronon. "Infirmary teams, check in. Any sign of Doctor McKay?" As he speaks he sees the emotions on Ronon's face, the face that normally only ever shows anger or joy, shows guilt and fear as clear as if it's written in pen, and suddenly he wishes he hadn't glared at him. His face softens immediately and he shakes his head, trying to say he didn't mean it, that it's not his fault, as the reports come back.

Everyone is at their post with no sign of McKay. He radios the jumper bay crew as Ronon approaches, asking the same of them. All present and no sign of McKay. He tells all crews to stay alert and wait for further instructions. He looks to Ronon when he reaches him, "Find the duty nurse, see if she knows anything, and if not, search this level. I'm going to search downstairs. If we don't find him then I'll raise the alarm."

Ronon nods and leaves without a word, but John can see the muscles tight across Ronon's back and mentally kicks himself for throwing that glare at him, but John can't spare the time to do anything about it right now. He's already running towards the rear of the infirmary, racing down the stairs. He's through the open door and there is Rodney, leaning against a work bench and his body sighs in relief. Only then he notices that something is wrong and he speeds up, trying to reach Rodney as quickly as possible, while trying to figure out what's wrong.

John skids to a halt in front of him. He watches as Rodney opens blue eyes, glazed with tears of pain, his face distorted in agony, his body is arched and convulsing. He reaches out a hand slowly, about to assure Rodney that he's here to help him, to ask him not to fight him, when Rodney speaks, and the pain in his voice sends a chill down John's spine.

He's about to promise, about to say of course he'll help when the screaming starts, and the memory it brings makes John's hands clammy and his spine freeze as the hairs on his arms stand to attention.

Rodney's eyes are squeezed shut, his head is forced up towards the ceiling, his body convulsing and then he's collapsing, boneless. John's reaching for him at the time and Rodney falls into his arms, silent and still and John thinks he's lost him again.

Tears fill his eyes, pain tight across his chest and he feels like he can't breathe as he cradles Rodney, lowering him to the floor. He catches sight of the syringe lying still on the workbench as he lowers Rodney into his lap. He blinks away the tears, desperately trying to clear the blurred vision so he can actually see Rodney. He doesn't even hear his voice breaking as he chants his own mantra, "no, no, no, not again, please not again, please, not this, no, no."

He raises a shaky hand to Rodney's neck, hesitating slightly because Rodney is so still and he doesn't know what to do if there isn't a pulse. His fingers find their own way to Rodney's neck and there it is; John's salvation. A thready pulse that goes beat... beat... beat, and John can breathe again, though the pain across his chest remains.

John's whole body sags in relief. He taps his radio, still unable to look away from Rodney's slackened face. Voice full of urgency, he manages to keep his voice steady, "Medical emergency in the medical labs. I repeat, medical emergency, medical laboratory." He scrubs a hand at his cheeks, rubbing away the tears and taking deep breaths, trying to get himself under control for when the medics arrive.

His eyes drift away from Rodney to the liquid underneath him and then he see's the other body and he flinches in shock. He can't believe he didn't see a body lying on the floor, even so totally concentrated on Rodney as he'd been. "My god, Rodney, what have you done?"

He sees the scalpel, just beyond his reach; sees the dark colour of dried blood along its edge, still shiny wet in parts. His eyes rove over the limp body of Doctor Peters as he looks for injuries. He sees a line of red on his neck, but can't see how far round it goes. He quickly and efficiently lowers Rodney gently to the floor and crawls over to Doctor Peters.

He bends down, not wanting to turn the body without causing more damage, just in case he's alive. John tilts his head so he can see and realises that the line is a small cut, not even bleeding anymore. He huffs a huge sigh of relief and then sits back and knocks into Rodney's shoulder. He's just put a hand on his friend's chest, the feel of his chest rising and falling calming him, when the medical team come clattering in, with Ronon hot on their heels.

He explains that both are unconscious but breathing, reason unknown. He tells them that he suspects Dr. Peters has hit his head and that Rodney's injected an unknown drug. There were a few vials on the work surface, but there was also another underneath Rodney and one of the nurses spots another broken vial by the next workbench. The medical team arrange for both Doctor Peters and Rodney to be taken back up to the main infirmary and scanned to see if the Ancient tech can decipher what the source of their problems are.

Everybody disappears upstairs but John's just standing there, in the middle of the lab with broken glass and liquid and a scalpel with blood along its edge. He's dazed and his body is loose, and his brain dark. He can't think beyond Rodney's screaming, beyond Rodney falling down like there's no one in there anymore and then he feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks at Ronon, part of him sees the worry in his friend's eyes, and part of him doesn't see Ronon at all, still living the nightmare of seeing his friend die again.

Ronon steers him towards the doors and up the stairs, his voice filtering through, "Did you see what happened?"

John shakes his head. "No, I ran in and it must have been just after he injected himself, he was…" he has to take a deep breath, has to shake loose the memory in order to continue, "he was screaming, like… like before, then he just collapsed," _and I couldn't do anything, _he finishes inside his head, _not a god damn thing._

They walk into the infirmary and Doctor Peters is already in an infirmary bed, hooked up to monitors. One of the nurses crosses John's path and he puts a hand out to her, "Do you know what's wrong with Doctor Peters yet?"

"From what we can tell it's just concussion. He seems stable. We're going to keep a close eye on him, just in case."

"And Doctor McKay?"

Her expression turns sympathetic and soft, "He's under the scanner now. We've taken samples of all the vials and we should know soon what he injected himself with, and then we'll go from there. We've called Doctor Beckett. I'm sure he'll tell you as soon as we know any more."

She smiles softly and John nods back, releasing her. He turns to Ronon, "We should contact Teyla, let her know what's happening. Guess we'd best wait out of the way."

Ronon nods and they go to the waiting room, Ronon calling Teyla on the way. Pretty soon all three of them are sat there in silence, waiting. John feels like he's just woken up from a Carson special mix. Everything feels numb, time seems to be moving differently and he can't seem to think straight. He doesn't think he's ever felt this lost, this empty, but part of him welcomes it because he doesn't want to think, he doesn't want to know, so he just sits and waits and tries not to think that his friend is dying.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

_Thanks to my beta's who rushed this through today so I could post before the weekend. Hope you enjoy._

**THE CYNICAL SOLDIER**

**CHAPTER 14, ISS 1;**

While he waited, John pushed his emotions into boxes and pushed them deep, deep down. He was incapable of dealing with them. Everything was too much, just too much. As time passed he became more and more numb. He could see Teyla looking at him, with worry in her face. He put it in another box and pushed it away. He was fed up with feeling, fed up with hurting. He just couldn't do it anymore. He needed to function.

Elizabeth joined them just before Carson walked in the door, but he didn't speak immediately. He looked beyond tired, he looked like his best friend was dying and John couldn't deal with that so he filled another box and pushed it away. He stood up slowly, mechanically.

Carson sighed heavily and it sounded like his heart was breaking. "I know you want to see him, follow me." They all trailed behind him quietly, trepidation in their footsteps.

It was Elizabeth who spoke first, just as they were nearing Rodney's bed, "Carson? How is he?"

"He's, erm…" He took a deep breath as he walked round the far side of the bed, steadying himself for the things he had to say. John recognised it; Carson was trying to step back from the overwhelming emotions that clouded the mind and made it hard to think straight. He was failing miserably in John's view, but he managed enough to carry on. "We identified the drug he used to inject himself with. It was the cure."

John felt hope welling up inside him, but he pushed it away. He had heard him screaming, things that were supposed to help didn't make you sound like that. "But he was screaming. _That_ was your cure?"

Carson's eyes bored into his, burning with indignation. "He wasn'ae supposed to take it in that form. If our hand had'a been forced, we would'a sedated him first. He's mae friend too; I wouldn'ae hurt him for anything, Colonel." The words were thick with Scottish anger and sharp, inflicted like a slap in the face and John knew he had earned it.

He nodded, suitably admonished with an apology in his eyes, while he wrapped up his guilt and the apologies that he couldn't voice in a box and pushed it away. He kept his eyes on Carson, knowing that if he looked at Rodney there wasn't a box big enough to put that in. He heard the gentle beep, beep of the heart monitor that Rodney was hooked up to and that was enough, better in fact, as it told him what he wanted to hear – that Rodney was alive.

Carson nodded back, with acceptance in his eyes as he continued, the angry Scottish brogue fading away. "There are many drugs that are actually poisons. Many of our current drugs have a base of narcotics or poisons. Botulinum, for instance, a gram of which could kill 20 million people, is used in an extremely diluted form as a beauty regime to remove wrinkles, relief of migraines, treatment for the spastic conditions of multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy, and there were new uses being discussed as we left Earth."

Ronon stepped forward, "But, he has the cure. Regardless of how, he has it, so he will be okay now, right?"

Carson blanched, "We've had the results back from the original drug trials. They were inconclusive."

Ronon's voice rumbled, wariness in his tone, as if he already knew the answer, "What does that mean, inconclusive?"

Carson responded, "The drug didn't work in all the samples. The chemical blocker was only nullified in thirty percent of them." John felt a weight falling into his stomach at his words, like a stone dropping into a well and pushing all hope aside.

Ronon was a surprisingly optimistic soul though. "Okay. So, either he's in this thirty percent and the drug works, or he's not and we're back where we started, right?"

Carson looked down at Rodney, placing a hand gently on his wrist. He spoke as if Ronon hadn't said anything, "In the remaining samples, the cure either failed or altered the chemical's make up to something we're unable to recognise. We're trying to understand it now, trying to find another antidote to this new chemical, in case he develops that. I have people working round the clock and we'll keep trying till we find something that'll help." His words should have been fortifying, Carson working on something generally gave them all hope for success, but he sounded so weary and defeated that it was hard to find solace in them.

Elizabeth spoke softly, almost as if she was afraid of waking Rodney. "How is he now?"

Carson looked over his shoulder at them, "He's stable, unconscious and unresponsive, but stable. We can't do anything until we know which path the cure will take. I'm afraid our only hope now, is hope itself. All we can do is wait and see how it affects him and be prepared for a fight if it goes against us."

They all looked down at Rodney and John followed their gaze before he could stop himself. Rodney was lying still with only the movement of his chest to prove he was still amongst the living, and all of John's safe little boxes evaporated. He could feel himself falling apart as he was accosted by all of his emotions. "I can't be here," he croaked out, voice hoarse with emotions, "I have things to do," and he turned and left them standing around the too still form of his friend.

The knock at the door brought John back to his surroundings and he realised he was in his quarters, standing in the dark with no recollection of how he had gotten there, or how long ago he had left the infirmary. The repetitive knocking allowed him no time to remember either.

Trouble was, with awareness of his surroundings, came awareness of himself and the emotions he was trying to distance himself from come back with full force. He was in no state for visitors. Then he heard Teyla's voice, "John Sheppard."

It was spoken quietly, but it was his full name and he knew what that inflection meant from Teyla. She was not going until she saw him, even if it meant she had to climb in through the window. He opened the door, resigned.

****************

The doors slid open. Teyla saw that the room was dark, with just the light from the hallway spilling in. The silhouette of John Sheppard stood where the light met the dark. His face was in the half light and the pain of it brought tears to her eyes.

He is a strong warrior, with an inner strength that seems boundless, that has saved them all many times. Everyone here thinks of him as strong, as unbreakable but in many ways he is so fragile and no more so than when one of them is in danger. It is at these times she is most frightened he will break, break beyond repair.

She walked into the room, her movements slow and careful. As the doors closed behind her, the lights were brought up slowly, though still remained dim, John hidden in the shadows. "John," she said carefully.

"Don't," he rasped, and it was meant as a warning, but the voice breaking and the pain in his voice, negated it. She knows him, when he's like this he wants to run, this is when he is most fragile. She wanted to rush in and hold him, tell him that he's not alone, that they are all in pain. She wants him to know that they all dread a day without Rodney McKay in it, but she knew if she approached John like that, it would end badly. She moved to the bed and sat down quietly, and she waited.

She can see that John was thrown, having expected an argument. He was looking at her, frowning. When she didn't say anything, he sat down next to her. He was still tense, but she couldn't see that improving any time soon and it wasn't as if they had an infinite time to discuss this. Ronon would be loathe to leave Rodney's side, would not leave him on his own, but he would come looking eventually, and he would deal with this differently.

John is like Rodney in this respect. She knew if the silence stretched he would speak and her patience was rewarded.

"It just hurts too much," he said roughly and it's a sign of just how emotional he was that he's letting her in so quickly.

"I know John, he means as much to me."

"I know, but…" he pauses, "You and Ronon deal better. Ronon's lost his entire race for god's sake. I can't even comprehend that kind of loss. How do you move on from that?"

Teyla recognised the deflection tactic. Knew John was trying to talk about Ronon, talk about anything but himself. Sometime she wondered if he remembered she was amongst the most respected traders in the galaxy. "You move on because you have to, but every loss still hurts like new. You know that from last time, how we were all affected by losing Rodney."

"Oh God, last time." John stood up, and started to pace, "It took everything I had to carry on, and this time I know what's coming. I don't think I can do it again."

Teyla could see where John's thoughts were taking him, and she had to bring him back from those dark places. "He has not died yet, John. There is still hope and we should be there. You should not be here alone. Your place is with us at his side."

John nodded, "I know, it's just…" he stopped pacing and looked her in the eyes, "He's so still… and it's so much, I feel so much." He looked away as he gave an almost bitter, almost disbelieving laugh. "He's arrogant, selfish and egotistical. How does he get under your skin like this?"

She smiled gently, the answer was easy. "Because he is brave, and compassionate and funny and because when he loves you it is unbiased and all encompassing."

She saw John's lips tremble with emotion. He nodded as he sat down beside her again. "He is. He does. He's just so big and so loud that when he's gone the space is too large to fill. It's too big to ignore, and it's impossible not to know that he's not there anymore…and every day without him just hurts too much." She saw one of the tears in his eyes break free and tremble down his cheek, heard the breathy gasps as he tried to bring his emotions in check.

She nodded, and bit her lip as she tried to keep her emotions reined in. John needed her now and she would do her crying later. Her voice turned intense as she stressed, "He is not dead yet, he has not gone yet. We still have hope, and we have survived without even that in the past. We thought we had lost him once, we have him back and we should be at his side holding on with everything we have. You should not let him go so easily."

"Let him go easily?" John asked her in disbelieve. "Nothing about this is easy. If I thought it would make a difference, I would hold on tight and never let go, but it doesn't, nothing makes a difference. There is absolutely nothing I can do. I feel so useless down there. Do you know what I would give, to be able to do something, _anything_?"

"I know, John," she stressed, trying to placate him. "We are all people of action, we would all prefer to be doing something, and you can, John. There is no one to fight, but does that mean that you should do nothing? Sitting vigil at Rodney's bedside is a small thing to do, surely, when the only alternative is nothing?"

John sighed deeply, nodding as he sat down next to Teyla. "And I will do, but I need time to deal with this. You were a leader of your people, Teyla. Surely you understand that I can't let the people under me see me like this?"

"You cannot let them see that you care, John?"

"I can't let them see that I care for any one person more than another. I am Military Commander of this base and I should care for them all equally. When I'm forced to leave someone behind, I don't want their friends asking if I would have done the same if it'd been you, Ronon or Rodney."

"No one would think that of you, John. You would never leave someone behind if there was a way to save them." She knew this, had witnessed it for herself the lengths he would go to, to bring someone home.

John looked away, his voice was low but she could hear a fear in it, "Sometimes I wonder… sometimes I wonder what I'd count as a fair risk to get any of you back, because I've lived without one of you for three months… sometimes I think I would risk too much, risk everything and that… that scares me."

She placed a hand on his cheek, guiding his face back to hers, so she could look him in the eyes. "The oath we took, myself and Ronon, the oath we made, 'Whatever it takes'? It wasn't just for Rodney, it was for any one of us. I know I would risk everything for any of you and anyone here who says that they do not know someone they would risk more for does not speak the truth."

"I…," he bowed his head and when he raised it, the look in his face was embarrassed and pleasantly surprised, "thank you… it means a lot to have your friendship, Teyla. But, you see, even if that's what I feel, I don't have the luxury of showing it. As Military Commander they have to be equal, if I want the respect of my men, they have to believe that, and if I go into that infirmary in this state, they'll know. I have to be in control, even when I'm not."

"You should be there, John. Everyone knows the friendship you and Rodney share and they will expect you there. What would you rather, that they see you care too much? Or, that you don't care enough?"

John blinked; obviously the thought had not occurred to him. He took a deep breath, "Okay, Teyla. I'll come back to the infirmary, but at least let me freshen up a bit first." He smiled at her doubtful face, "I promise, whatever it takes, I'll be there."

She smiled widely as she pulled him into the Anthosian greeting, hoping it gave him the strength she always gained. "Very well, John. I will see you soon," and if she stressed the word soon a little, well, she knew him too well.

It brought a brittle smile to his lips, so it was fine. She stood and went to the door, but turned at the last moment, "will you be alright, John?" she asked gently, almost a whisper.

"Would you and Ronon allow anything else?" he asked with a smile on his lips. She hated his false smiles.

_No, we would not. _"That is not an answer," she pushed, knew the futility of it when the answer would only be 'fine' - yet another lie that would hurt, because it meant he still didn't trust them as he should.

She saw John swallow before replying. He looked her in the eyes, intense with sincerity, "I don't know, but I will try."

She blinked in surprise and then nodded. "Thank you." _Thank you for telling me the truth, for letting me in. _She left him then, returning to the infirmary. As she turned into the infirmary hallway, she saw Radek. He was hovering, just this side of the door to the infirmary, and he looked indecisive, shifty almost.

"Radek?" She queried.

Radek twisted round, startled, to face her. "Oh, Teyla. I know you said Rodney, he was not ready, but I heard about what happened and I had to come, yes?"

She frowned as she tried to remember when and if she had ever said that Rodney wasn't ready, and then she remembered it was when he first stepped foot on Atlantis. Radek must have misconstrued her frown as he stepped forward, with a plea in his eyes, "I will not stay, I just need to see, yes, for myself."

She reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Radek, of course you can see Rodney. I only said that because he was so overwhelmed that first day. I never meant to imply that you should stay away. You are his friend, Radek. You will always be welcome."

Surprise flashed on his face, to be followed by relief, "Then I can see him?"

She smiled, "of course, Radek. Come with me." He followed her into the infirmary, his footsteps still hesitant, causing him to fall behind. Teyla nodded at Ronon's unspoken enquiry regarding John, _he will be here, _she conveyed silently as she took a seat, casting her eyes back to Radek.

As he approached the bed, he watched Ronon carefully, as if expecting Ronon to send him away. Radek stood at the end of the bed, looking down on Rodney. He looked so sad, and when he spoke, his voice was soft with regret, "I wish I had come before… when I could have talked to him and heard his voice. I wish…," he sighed deep and full of remorse, "How is he?"

"We are waiting. He injected himself with the cure before it was finalised. There is a chance the cure will work. There is also a chance that it won't, or that it turns into something else that will make more problems. Carson is working on something to fix it, if it does go bad. We are just waiting and hoping that the cure works."

She indicated for Radek to take the seat next to her. He hesitated as if unsure of her sincerity, but eventually moved over and sat down. She placed a hand on his forearm, "Radek, I am sorry that you misunderstood me, I never intended for you to stay away. But, you will speak to him again. We have to be strong for him, hope for him."

Radek nodded, "Yes, he is always pessimist. We will be optimists, he will hate that. He will get better, and you have nothing to apologize for. I should have come anyway. He's my friend, and I should not have let anything keep me away."

There was a pause as they all sat in silence, caught up in their own thoughts. With just the sounds of the infirmary to fill in the background while they watched Rodney lie too still and listened to him be too quiet.

Radek spoke softly again, "I think that is what I missed most, while he was gone. Talking, discussing things with Rodney is unique. Everyone else is far too much sensitive. With Rodney you don't need to guard your mouth, you can talk thoughts as you think them. It is much faster way to work, it is pure science," he smiled distractedly, his thoughts obviously turning inwards towards a happy memory, "not held back by baby soft sensibilities".

She smiled, recognising a Rodney McKay quote when she heard it. She turned to look at Rodney as her memory passed through the years and she spoke softly as well, "I do not think there was a 'thing' I missed, I just missed Rodney. He runs through life with grabby hands," she smiled at the Earth expression Rodney had inadvertently taught her with 'Colonel Grabby Hands'.

She continued, trying to explain her thoughts, "He is always moving as though time moves too slowly for him, and then he'll just stop and listen to you or he will insult you and then stumble as he tries to take it back, and that's how you know. He would never admit it, but that is how you know he loves you. I missed that. I missed Rodney."

Ronon shrugged, "I missed him. I was surprised how much. He's staying this time. He won't die again."

Teyla managed to still the shocked laugh before it escaped. She actually found it endearing that Ronon stated it as though that was the end to it. She could just imagine him threatening Rodney with a sparring session if he even thought about dying again. She smiled across the bed at him, "no, he won't." _Whatever it takes, we will not lose him again._

***************

Carson sat in his office. He wondered if they knew he could hear them. When the infirmary was quiet like this sound traveled no matter how quietly the words were spoken. Something about the acoustics of the infirmary seemed to drag the words into this central office.

He knew he was hiding, knew he should be out there, but he couldn't, not yet, and the topic of conversation wasn't helping. There wasn't a single thing he had missed about Rodney, it had been everything. The list was too long to mention.

During those three months he felt as though he had lost something precious and definitely irreplaceable. He had dealt with Rodney on his deathbed before, but his training as a doctor, the process of actually fixing him, helped keep an emotional distance.

He was having trouble dealing now, though. His earlier snap at John had told him just how much. Yes, John should have known better, but at the same time, Carson knew he wasn't dealing well either. He reckoned the reason was the same for both of them. They had both experienced life without McKay, and had both realised how the thought of having to do so again filled them both with fear.

Carson kept trying to find the doctor in himself, the mask that he could pull over himself to hide the indecisions, the worry and the fear. He really wanted to just retreat and hide behind something right now, but he couldn't find that place. Every time he managed to find it, managed to put that mask on, one look at Rodney and it would dissipate and fade away.

So, here he was, a grown man hiding in his own domain so that Rodney's friends wouldn't see how scared he was that they might lose Rodney again, so that he wouldn't take their hope away from them.

************************

Inside his quarters, John had paused at the closed doors. He was still a mess inside, but his mask was back in place and it felt more secure than it had in days. He had been pulled apart and had slowly put himself back together, building a wall around himself.

He steadied himself and forced looseness into his body and relaxed his face. He took a deep breath and opened the doors, and then forced himself to leave the safety of his quarters.

He made his way to the mess, intending to bring food and drink to Teyla and Ronon. He could admit to himself it was a delaying tactic and knew Teyla would see it for what it was, but at least it was a practical one.

He took his time selecting the food and drink, nodding in acknowledgment to the people who greeted him along the way. Even dragging his feet, or ensuring he didn't spill the drinks as he preferred to think of it, he still reached the infirmary's doors' too soon.

He was still dawdling, about to enter while trying to find any reason not to, when he heard the gentle beep, beep, beep that had given him so much comfort turn into a single tone that filled him with dread. Alarms started and instinct took over. Rodney was in trouble and Sheppard did what he always did – he rushed to Rodney's side.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Thanks again guys to for your support and your comments which make my day. Thanks to the beta's for making it readable. The end is nigh...I think.

**THE CYNICAL SOLDIER**

**CHAPTER 15, ISS 1;**

As John rushed through the infirmary doors it looked like chaos, but then he saw the order of it. Teyla and Ronon backed away from the bed as nurses moved in to replace them.

Teyla and Ronon came over to him and that's when he realised he'd stopped. His hands gripped the tray so hard they were turning white with the pressure, as he watched the nurse cut through Rodney's scrub top. He could feel fear reverberating through him, and the tray trembled in his hands. Ronon reached out and gripped it, "Sheppard," he said softly, but sternly. John turned to him in a daze and followed his eyes to the tray. He nodded silently and released his grip. Ronon took it, but it still trembled in his grasp as he pushed it on top of the nearest cabinet.

Teyla moved in front of him and ran gentle hands down his biceps before she moved to his side. John only had eyes for Carson working 'hands only' CPR on Rodney. His face was white as a sheet as he shouted for epinephrine and to charge the defibrillator, all without taking his eyes off Rodney's slack face, even when the nurse injected Rodney with the epinephrine.

Time seemed to stand still and Carson was the only thing moving in the world, in John's world. The only relevant movement as everything else seemed to fade away. John could feel his heart in his throat as he watched Carson stop to check Rodney's chest with the stethoscope, then followed his gaze to the monitor to see the single flat line morph into a line of multiple v's, as the CPR started to work.

If anything, John tensed even further. He knew from awful experience that the fight was far from over. Rodney was now coded, breathing but with no pulse. He watched as Carson took the paddles from a nurse and rubbed them together, spreading the conductive gel. "Clear!" he shouted and, with a quick glance to check that they had, he placed the paddles on Rodney; one along his left ribs and the other on his right chest.

Rodney's body thrashed, like a shaken rag doll, and then fell back against the bed, limp. Sheppard took a step towards the bed, but Teyla halted his progress with a hand on his arm. The monitor bleeped once and then returned to that dead tone for a split second – the tone that made the hairs stand up on his body - before returning to the tone that told them Rodney was still coding.

He heard a gasp followed by an accented whisper, "Nooooo." He turned towards the sound and saw Radek leaning against the wall. He hadn't even noticed him before now. Radek's glasses reflected the infirmary lights but Sheppard could still see his blue eyes riveted to Rodney, his hands wringing together and his body lax with defeat against the wall.

"Clear!" Carson's shout echoed across the infirmary. Sheppard's eyes were drawn back to Rodney, just in time to see his body fall limp again. "Charge," Carson shouted as he reached for his stethoscope and checked Rodney's chest for a heartbeat. John could feel a weight in his stomach at the look of defeat on Carson's face, watched the slow burn of frustration appear.

They were running out of time. Carson took the paddles from the nurse again and hurled them against Rodney's body, "Breathe, damn you, brea…" Carson broke off when emotion got the better of him, pursing his lips together. It was there, clearly visible for everyone to see as the physician's mask faded away. Their eyes flicked to his face in shock, but they all quickly averted their stares, pretending not to notice the look of anguish on Carson's face.

Sheppard's eyes remained on the monitor, _you heard him, breathe, damn you._ The monitor beeped and then… beeped again. Everyone in the room straightened, you could hear a pin drop as the next second dragged by… beep. Carson was whispering commands to his staff, disbelief clear in his voice as the monitor continued to beep rhythmically and stubbornly and gloriously in the background.

Teyla grinned widely. Ronon straightened and reached out, he clasped both John and Radek by the shoulder. It actually hurt, but Sheppard was busy dealing with the pain in his chest. Slowly the nurses faded away with worried glances towards Carson, who stood in his own world as he watched Rodney breathe.

The team slowly approached, each placing a hand somewhere on Rodney's body, each needing the contact, the confirmation that Rodney was still with them. John fancied he could feel the life in Rodney's body under his fingertips. "Carson?" he asked, hesitantly. He figured, hoped, that would be enough. That Carson would understand what he _needed_ to know.

"I don't know," Carson replied, still heavy with defeat, as he turned to them and seemed to notice the others for the first time. He seemed to realise that he needed to elaborate to those who maybe didn't hear John's question as clearly as he had. "He seems stable now, but I don't know if he'll have another episode or, as yet, what caused this one. Although, it wasn't unexpected, considering he has poison running through his system and that is the most likely reason for his heart... his heart stopping." Carson took another breath, before continuing, "We're hoping he'll be out of danger in roughly twelve hours and then we'll know how the drug affected him."

John nodded. _Twelve hours._ He knew how things could change in five minutes, let alone twelve hours. They moved silently to chairs around the bed. Zelenka appeared and slowly sat down, looking at each of them. John didn't know why, but he thought he could see a question in his eyes, seeking permission to join them. Stupid idea, but John nodded to him just the same.

Then he turned his eyes to the monitor. He just sat watching the line jump, and every time it did, the tension in his chest eased a little more. Eventually, he followed the cables to Rodney's chest and watched it move up and down, listening to the steady beeps.

He steeled himself and looked up to Rodney's face. It was so still and unnaturally relaxed, nothing to say if he was alive or dead, and he had to quickly lower his eyes back to Rodney's chest. _Obviously too soon. _ So he just sat and watched Rodney's chest rise and fall and listened to the beep of the heart monitor as he let the minutes drag by and tried not think about the hours.

He had no idea how long he'd been lost in the sounds of Rodney's breathing when he heard the sound of Radek rising, bringing his attention back to the here and now. "I have to go back to the labs, there is still work that has to be done. I will call back in the morning, yes?"

John, for once, didn't know if it was just his accent or if he was actually asking for permission, "Sure, Radek. We'll see you in the morning."

"We will radio you, if there are any changes," Teyla told him.

Radek nodded and left. John looked to the windows, only to realise that day had been chased away and replaced by an inky night sky.

"Same shifts as before?" Sheppard asked, already glancing to the beds on each side to make sure they were free. He was actually looking forward to getting his head down and finding a place where Rodney wasn't dying, where he didn't just have to stand by and watch. Whatever nightmares his dreams brought, they had to be better than this slow torture.

Ronon shifted uncomfortably, "You'd still trust me to watch him?" he rumbled.

Sheppard looked at him and frowned. He replayed Ronon's words in his mind, _Nope, still no idea_, "What?"

Ronon looked at Rodney, "This happened on my watch. If I'd checked earlier, he wouldn't be lying here now."

Sheppard wanted to kick himself for not finding the time to have this conversation earlier. He wished he could have taken back the accusing glare he'd thrown Ronon, a moment of anger when they had found Rodney missing.

"I trust you with my life, Ronon. I definitely trust you with Rodney's. Yes, I was frustrated you didn't check behind the curtain, but I know Rodney better than most and I know if you had checked on him and stopped him, he would have found a way to do this eventually. We were here because I hoped we could stop him, but in truth he's sly and stubborn. We were just here to catch the pieces, to minimise the fall out."

John leaned forward. He needed Ronon to understand that the next part came from the heart, "The first day I met you, I trusted you to watch over Rodney. That will never change because I know you will always protect him, okay?"

Ronon nodded, "I will."

Teyla smiled across the bed at Ronon, "I told you, it would be fine."

Ronon nodded to her, "You did." It might have been John's imagination, but Ronon sounded a mixture of resigned and annoyed, and he couldn't help the smirk that flashed across his face.

"Well, now that's settled, we'd best call it a night," he rose, nodding to Teyla, "Wake me when it's time… unless something happens."

"Of course, John," she admonished. John nodded and crawled onto the bed behind her, hearing Ronon climb onto the bed on Rodney's other side. They both lay back like sentinels by Rodney's side as Teyla watched over him. John lay still, staring at the ceiling.

Next thing he knew he was fluttering his eyes open as he uncurled sharply out of a foetal position, sitting up disorientated and groggy from sleep. There was a half beat of an alarm that was quickly cancelled, leaving a heavy silence to the air. Then his mind identified the sound he could hear, bringing memories with it. The stucco tone that told him Rodney was coding again.

He twisted round sharply, all vestige of sleep gone. He dragged himself quickly to the edge of the bed as he swung his legs over the side, where Teyla put a hand against his chest. "They are already working on him, John." He didn't move beyond that, frozen in place by the nurses and Carson bustling around in front of him. He pushed his palms into the mattress and curled his fingers around the edges, nails digging into the mattress.

He felt Teyla's fingers wrap around his wrist as she leaned against the bed. He looked over to her, but her eyes were riveted on the drama in front of them.

"Clear!"

He turned back sharply and watched Rodney shake as the current ran through him. It was more traumatic this close. He could see Ronon mirroring his position on the other side. Emotions were like a maelstrom inside him and yet simultaneously a part of him was stepping back, numb, unable to do anything but watch the nightmare unfold in front of him.

Beep… beep… beep.

Rodney was back after only one attempt this time. He realised that he was trembling, and then he realised that Teyla was too, almost imperceptible, but with her small hand still gripped tightly around his wrist he could feel every tremor. The nurses left, fading away beyond his conscious thoughts. He looked over to Carson just as Carson looked over to him. He'd bet a month of Sundays Carson was shaking too. "I think he's getting stronger, but only time will tell. You should all get some sleep. Tomorrow could be a long day."

It was Teyla that responded. "We will Carson, and so should you."

Carson nodded, and with a last look at Rodney, he retreated to his office. John bet there was a cot in there that he wasn't using. He sat, dazed, and watched Rodney breathing, until Teyla moved in front of him and lifted his head so she could place her forehead against his. He sighed deeply, "He's still alive, we're holding on to him." _I'm not going to run, _he told her in his head.

She pulled away, smiling at him, as if she had heard it.

He shrugged self-consciously.

"It's not your shift yet, John. You should go back to sleep."

He cast a look over at Rodney, shaking his head. _Want to stay here and watch him breathe._

"It's my watch, John. Are you saying you don't trust me to watch him and keep him safe?"

He frowned at her. He didn't even need to say it. _Hell, no, never._

She smiled, "Good, then you can go back to sleep, secure that he will be safe."

He narrowed his eyes at her and ignored Ronon's deep chuckle from the other bed. "Wordy minx," he muttered as he swung his legs back onto the bed and lay down, curling back into his previous position.

"What is a minx?" Teyla enquired.

John looked at her over his shoulder, "Well, I'd tell ya, but apparently I have to go to sleep now." He turned back and burrowed into his pillow.

He could hear the soft smile in her voice when she replied, "Yes, you have."

He huffed as he plumped the pillow under him. Silence seemed to sneak in and envelop him, making the beep of Rodney's heartbeat seem so loud. He closed his eyes, and then opened them. He turned over to look towards Rodney, but his view was blocked by the privacy curtains stored there, and he knew that even if he moved there was the bedside cabinet beyond. He lay there a little longer, telling himself how stupid he was, before giving into the urge to actually see Rodney.

He picked up the pillow and swapped ends. He ignored Teyla smiling at him, too self conscious to admit what he was doing and why – it was paramount to sleeping with the closet in sight in case of monsters. He had to do this though, because this way all he had to do was open his eyes and if he looked down and across, he could see Rodney diagonally from here, as well as the monitor that stood above and behind him, and the sense of comfort that gave him was what he needed to breathe.

He moved the pillow so he could lay with Rodney in his line of sight. He closed his eyes. He told himself that this way he would be able to see him straight away if the alarm woke him up again. _What if it didn't?_

He opened his eyes at that unbidden thought, staring across at Rodney. _What if Rodney dies while I'm asleep? What if he goes and I'm not here to say…?_ He sat up straight, swinging his legs over the side, pushing the thoughts away. _I don't need to say goodbye, he's not going anywhere_, he thought angrily at himself.

Teyla turned to look at him, the silent enquiry in her eyes.

He glanced at her, "I can't…" he rasped, and then returned his gaze to Rodney, "Not while… I can't." _I can't take the chance that I'm not here._

She nodded silently and patted the seat next to her. He moved silently to the chair and sat down. He looked over at Ronon, "at least one of us is getting some sleep,"

"Ronon does not sleep either," Teyla said softly. John nodded, _Of course not. _If he'd thought about it, he would have known 'd known that none of them could sleep after nearly losing Rodney three times. _Twelve hours, no… what? Six? Seven? How long had he been asleep?_ It was going to be a long night, followed by a long was torture to just sit watching and waiting, but the alternative couldn't be contemplated.

John glanced over at Carson's office and saw the light still on, _Should I?_

He looked back to Rodney again, gaining peace in the gentle rise and fall of his breathing while his mind turned, remembering the look of anguish on Carson's face. _Maybe he wants to be alone, like I needed to be alone earlier?_

He glanced back towards the office. _Where I'd still be hiding if it wasn't for Teyla dragging me out, because this is where I should be._

He returned his gaze back to Rodney. _Maybe he just sleeps with the light on. Maybe he's asleep and beyond the pain of this._

After a while he turned and stared at the lit office. _He shouldn't be on his own, not when we are all so near. He should be here with Rodney, with us. He doesn't need to feel like that alone. I told him earlier that I wouldn't let him go through that single-handedly again._

And so it went. Reasons why he knew he shouldn't let Carson mope all by himself and reasons why he remained sitting where he was. He felt Teyla's hand on his arm, "John?"

He looked at her and knew what she would do, what she had done earlier for him. He rose up from his chair. "I'll be back in a minute." He nodded to her before turning and making his way to Carson's office. He stood in the doorway watching Carson.

He was sitting at his desk, still in his lab coat, leaning heavily on his forearms as he bounced a pen with one hand against the base of his thumb on the other. The cot in the background was untouched. He was looking ahead, staring into nothing. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn't a nice place to be. He looked lost, lost in way John had never seen him.

John was filled with trepidation. He just wasn't good at this comforting thing. He wondered if he should go and get Teyla, but looking at Carson he figured if anyone should know how Carson felt it should be him. This wasn't so much sympathising as mirroring his emotions. Teyla had come for him and he should be here for Carson, just like he said he would be. He moved into the room, stopping about two steps from Carson, who was still lost in his own nightmare thoughts.

"Carson?"

Carson turned sharply to him, rising quickly, "What's wrong?" he asked as he looked past him towards Rodney, already moving towards the door.

Sheppard put out his hand, "No, nothing. Sorry. I just… I just came to see how you were."

Carson froze, and then visibly deflated, "Thank god. I thought…" He sighed, and then returned to his chair and slumped down in it. He flashed a quick smile at John, "I'm fine."

John knew that line, hadn't realised how infuriating it could be though. "Fine?"

Carson visibly pulled himself together, raising his chin, a move that reminded him painfully of Rodney. "Yes, Colonel, is there something you wanted?" John could see the Doctor's mask…and the cracks all over it.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes at him. _Oh, like that,__is it_? "Yes, I was wondering what you were doing in here,all by yourself, when you could be out there with us. You were the one who told me I didn't have to mourn alone, now I'm telling you that you don't have to suffer alone."

Carson's blue eyes flicked up to Sheppard's face. There was a heavy pause before he spoke. "That's nice of ya, lad, but really, I'm fine."

"Uh huh." Sheppard raised an eyebrow at him.

Carson returned the gaze. Sheppard backed down. He was supposed to be helping the man, not standing toe to toe with him. "Look, I just thought, that as another friend of Rodney's, you'd prefer to be close and amongst other people that miss him, and feel the same things you're feeling."

Carson looked Sheppard in the eye and John held his gaze. "Like your heart is burning and your insides are withering away and breathing has never come so hard."

Sheppard swallowed, _Yep, that pretty much summed it up. "_Yeah, like that."

Carson swallowed and his face sneered in self hate and anger, "or do you mean that you hold the life of your best friend in your hands. That if you fail, nothing will ever be the same again. That if you fail, you will have lost the miracle of a second chance."

He bolted up and took the two sharp steps towards Sheppard so that he was in his face, his blue eyes sparking like lightning. "Or do you mean that you're hoping against hope that your cure fixes him and doesn't kill him, and that his last moments won't be spent writhing in agony from something _you_ created? Like that, is that how you feel, Colonel? Like everything you've ever learnt is useless and you're just hoping for a miracle and trying to pretend that there is still hope when it left you long ago?" Carson's voice broke on the last sentence and he slumped back down into his seat, his eyes filled with unshed tears, lips pursed.

John could tell he had deflated, but he looked as if he still wanted to say something only the emotion was just too overwhelming to talk above it.

_Oh, sweet Jesus. Fine, he could do honest. _"Some of it. I feel useless here, but I still have to be here, as close to our best friend as I can get. Yeah, I feel like I let him down big time. Not counting the first time that put him in this situation in the first place, I still feel like I'm to blame for all of it. I posted guards, to stop this from happening. I knew he was going to try something and I should have had him restrained, or doped, or put the guard at the end of his bed. There are so many ways I could have stopped this, that I could have made it better, but we have to live with what we've got, so that's what I'm doing."

He closed the gap between him and Carson and sat on the desk, looking Carson in the eye. "Shall I tell you what we've got, Doc? We've got Rodney and we're not letting him go without a fight. He's breathing out there despite two attempts not to, thanks to you. You believe in your miracle if you want to, but me? I'm putting my belief in you because it's never failed me. Rodney will live, because no matter what you tell yourself, you will never stop hoping and you will never give up, and that's why I came in here. Because it's Rodney out there, so I came to see if you want to sit amongst his friends who know he's only here because of you and will never forget you for that."

Carson looked at him, stunned. He shook his head, and then stilled. He slowly looked back up into John's face, his voice soft and gentle. "And if I fail, John? If he dies, despite everything, will you still think I'm your miracle? Will you ever forgive me for that, John?"

"Honestly? I might blame you a little, but I would know you had tried everything and a little time would make that clearer. Initially I think I would just be too busy trying to breathe, trying to carry on to care for the how's and why's of it."

Carson nodded, taking a deep emotionally laden breath. "Thanks. For coming in here, I mean, and for being honest with me. You're right, the fight is far from over. This is the Pegasus Galaxy and he's already returned from the dead, so what's a little miracle like breathing, next to that?"

John smiled at him, "That's the spirit, Doc. Can you honestly see Rodney going quietly into the night?" he said with a smirk, and Carson huffed a laugh at the idea of Rodney going anywhere quietly. John's voice dropped, low and sincere, "We just have to do all we can do and hope it will be enough. So, will you come join us and hold on to him with everything we've got?"

Carson smiled and nodded firmly, "Aye, lad. I can do that."

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

_Sorry for the wait guys! I got a social life sprung on me which interrupted.... which makes a nice change. I keep thinking the next chapter will be the last chapter but it keeps on going so we'll have to wait and see what Chapter 17 brings. Anyway, thanks again to patient beta's and to all of you who are enjoying the story and taking the time to tell me so. Hope you enjoy-_

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 16 **

He stumbled from sleep, his eyes flicking open and closed as they adjusted to the lights. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself looking at John.

His whole body flinched in surprise and Sheppard leant forward, "Rodney? You okay? Do you want me to get Carson?"

With his blue eyes wide as saucers he pointed at John in confusion, "You're John, no wait. You're _Colonel_ John Sheppard," he finished deliberately.

He watched Sheppard's brow furrow as he tried to figure out the significance. "You normally just call me Sheppard," he said with a self conscious shrug.

"No," all his frustration thrust into that single word. "I _know_ you're Colonel John Sheppard. I _remember_ you're Colonel John Sheppard."

He watched John's face slowly morph from confusion to a dopey grin as he huffed a laugh. "Really? You remember me?"

Rodney smiled back, the broad smile that took up half his face and made his eyes light up from the inside as he nodded, "Yeah," he said, all the joy of the moment suffusing the word. The smile dipped slightly. "This is a good sign, right? I mean, this means it could all be back, right?"

"Yeah… least I guess so. I'd best contact Carson, let him know. He's in the mess grabbing some breakfast." Sheppard tapped his ear piece and called Carson directly. Rodney could only hear Sheppard's side of the conversation.

"No, no, everything's okay, better than okay. Rodney just woke up and he remembers who I am." He was pretty sure he hadn't imagined the smugness in that last bit.

"Yes, I know you only left five minutes ago."

John huffed a laugh as he responded. "No, I don't think he did it just to be annoying. You're not listening Doc. He _**remembers**_ me."

"No, not from yesterday," John rolled his eyes dramatically while he talked. "He _remembers _who I am… from before… he remembers stuff." John smiled dopily at him.

"Erm, I don't know… hang on." Sheppard's face looked slightly more serious as he directed the question to him, "Carson wants to know what you remember about me." He shrugged.

"Oh, erm, let me think." His hand flew between the two of them. "We're friends. I remember that." _Least I think we are, oh, that could be so embarrassing. _Rodney darted a startled, self conscious look at John, waiting for him to deny that. After a heavy pause in which Sheppard just smiled crookedly at him, Rodney figured he had it right.

_I've got a best friend_, and then he just felt so much like a 13 year old girl that he got a little bit flustered and tried desperately to think of something else. "Erm, you're the military leader here." He furrowed his brow and said hesitantly, "You like a man dressed in black?" Then it suddenly fell into place, "you like his music… for some ungodly reason." In fact, Rodney couldn't remember his music, but he remembered that he liked to imply that it was rubbish so he went with that.

Sheppard frowned, "Hey! The guy's a legend," he groused as he tapped his radio, "He remembers I like Johnny Cash." After a slight pause he continued, "Yeah, figure that does prove it. Pretty sure that falls under 'not widely known in the Pegasus Galaxy'… Yeah, sure, I'll tell him." He tapped his radio and closed down the link. "He said he'll be here in a …," they both turned and watched Carson walk in the door at emergency speed.

Rodney snapped his fingers and pointed at him, "You're Carson Beckett, you like sheep. AHA!" The thought had worried him a little till he remembered the banter, relived a scene in his mind and knew it was right, it was expected. He snapped his fingers at a passing nurse, the sound caused her to stop and look towards him as he pointed at her. "You're," his face fell. "Okay, I have no idea who you are." Somehow he made it sound like it was her fault.

"That doesn't mean anything, Rodney." Sheppard said as he smiled and nodded to the scowling nurse by way of apology. "Chances are you never knew her name. Names were never top of your list," Sheppard said as he turned back to him, smirking.

Carson had now approached the bed, "If we can try to bring a little medical exploration to this rather than just pointing at things and asking if you know what they're called," Carson snapped, bristling.

Rodney looked at Sheppard, both raising their eyebrows, smirking. Rodney was still riding on a wave of euphoria. He remembered John, remembered they were friends. They hadn't lied. He belonged here, was safe here. At last he was home and everything they had promised was his, nothing was going to ruin this mood. In fact he was having trouble containing the giggles that kept threatening to explode, his mood was so high.

"Right," Carson said. "I think we've established that you remember John, to what degree we have yet to determine. Can you tell me if you remember who you are, anything about your family?"

"Yeah, what's your sister's name?" Sheppard asked, still bouncing.

"I… I have a sister?" He asked and he couldn't help sounding so desolate. He couldn't remember a sister. How could he forget his own sister? What kind of person did that make him that he could forget his own flesh and blood?

"Colonel!" Carson admonished sharply. He sighed heavily. "This is not a quiz, Colonel. It is very important that he finds the answers himself so we can monitor his current status and his improvements." He turned away from Sheppard who wasn't bouncing anymore, he was looking at Rodney like he'd just hit him and wanted desperately to take it back.

Carson turned back to Rodney and said gently, "You haven't seen your family for quite a while. It's only natural to begin with things that are more recent to you. Now, can you tell me what you can remember about yourself first, then any family members? After that, I want you to tell me your earliest memory and if you can put a date to any memories you do have."

His heart suddenly fell into his stomach as a horrible thought occurred to him. "She wasn't with me, was she? She's not still there! Tell me we didn't leave her there!"

Sheppard was pushing him back onto the bed, as he tried to get out, tried to do something, anything. "No, no, you were alone, she wasn't with you. She's safe, Rodney. Jeannie is safe. She's on Earth, she's safe."

He fell back against the bed as images flooded his mind. He saw a small girl with blonde curls and an angelic face, with blue eyes that took in everything around her and looking at him like he was her hero. Suddenly, a grown woman, throwing physics books at him with tears in her eyes and looking at him as if he had ripped her heart out and stamped on it. Then she was here in Atlantis, hugging him and he remembered the love that flooded through him, relived it again, unable to figure out how he could have felt warm before knowing this feeling. _Jeannie_.

He looked up at John and Carson with watery eyes as they leant over him, oblivious that both of them had kept a restraining hand lightly on his bicep, wary of another attempt to leave the bed. "Jeannie, I remember her," he smiled a brittle smile, "Jeannie, my sister. She's amazing." He knew she hadn't been with him, but the worry about her welfare remained, "Where's Earth?"

Carson sighed and glared at Sheppard who looked back sheepishly. "Sorry, Doc," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

They both released him and Carson sat down on the edge of the bed. "Now look, Rodney. Your sister is fine, she's safe. Now, I know you want to know everything… no change there. However," he said sternly, "you have to take things slowly. You have to allow your mind the time it needs to heal. We need to figure out what _you_," he stressed with a glare at the Colonel, "actually know now and we have to monitor the stimuli you receive. If this is rushed it can cause more harm than good. I really, really need you to be patient and let the memories return naturally. Let's learn to walk before we go off running, okay, Rodney?"

But he wanted to know so much, wanted to know everything. All the questions he had. He looked Carson in the face and saw he was ready for a fight. He gave a beleaguered sigh, "Fine," he snapped.

Carson nodded. "We should do another scan first and take another vial of blood today, so we can see what changes have taken place, okay."

Rodney nodded half heartedly. He knew he was sulking, but just couldn't seem to stop. Carson seemed to find his sulking funny if the smirk was anything to go by. "I'm going to get a tape recorder, I'll be back in a minute," he said as he stood up and walked to his office. He heard him talking to Elizabeth on his radio as he disappeared into his office.

He suddenly realised that Ronon and Teyla were sitting up on either side of him, grinning widely. He looked at Teyla, "Hello Teyla Emmagen of the Atheesan."

He heard Sheppard mutter, "Close enough," but chose to ignore him as he turned to Ronon.

"Hello, Ronon, Runner and warrior… and caveman?"

Sheppard snorted with laughter and Ronon barked out loudly in response, he almost missed Teyla's small giggle in the background. He glared at them, "What?"

"It's sort of an insult when you call him caveman. It implies he's just muscle and no brains. I don't think you've ever actually called him it to his face," Sheppard tried to explain through the laughing.

"Oh," Rodney said, blushing. Maybe Carson had a point. Maybe he should try walking before blurting out insults at people. Stick to names for now. He turned to Ronon sheepishly, "Sorry?"

Ronon's deep bellowed laugh petered out as he answered, "it's okay, McKay. I'm just glad you're back. It's been too quiet here and you've been gone too long."

He wasn't sure how to take that so he just nodded and smiled, feeling very self conscious. Carson came back at that point and unknowingly saved him, as he sat down with a pen, paper and a dictaphone and started asking questions.

Rodney had felt as though his mind was crammed full of memories. Images came one on top of the other, one name leading to a place, leading to an event, leading to a name, and so on. In the beginning he was eagerly answering questions, relaying memories. Amazed after all the darkness that he suddenly had light and colour in his mind; pictures flashed, he heard names loud and clear, felt different emotions evoked by them.

He seemed to have a timeline to his memories. Could remember how they related to each other, but as the questions progressed he soon realised that the gaps between memories were huge, and all too soon it became apparent that he remembered only a pathetic few. He scoured his mind for every last memory, every drop of sensation, anything that told him about himself.

The worst was when he had a memory but could only describe it, unable to name the people in it or where it took place. That made him uneasy. He couldn't help wondering again if they were actually his or something 'they' had put there. He hated not knowing. He wanted them to tell him his life so it would all slot into place and he would be able to spot any false memories, but he knew Carson wouldn't allow it and that made him angry. He started becoming despondent, snappy.

Eventually, Carson put down the dictaphone. "Let's take a break from this and move on to the scan and blood works, okay?"

"Why are you asking me? Like I have a choice," he replied sulkily.

"Rodney," Carson admonished.

He sighed in defeat. A lot of the flashes of memory had been Carson helping him and a little bit of guilt seemed to make it through the frustration and anger. "I just want to know," he started, wanting to make Carson understand why he was acting the way he was.

Carson sighed before answering. "I know, Rodney. As your friend I'd love to just sit you down and tell you everything, but as your doctor I know that this has to be done properly, and as your friend _and_ doctor I want to do this properly. I want you to be you again. Just try to keep in mind that this is better in the long run."

Rodney nodded in resignation and bit down the sharp words on his tongue. He knew Carson was right, he just found it so damn infuriating. He got up and followed Carson to the scanner and lay down without a word. He heard Carson sigh before he moved over to the screen again.

When the scan was completed, Rodney joined him at the screen. Carson pointed to a little node encapsulated by larger nodes on the screen. "Okay, so the hippocampus is back to normal, which is good. However, we'll have to take a blood sample, as there is clearly still something holding back some of your memories."

Rodney scowled at him. "Got to say, Carson, this cure? Not so much."

Carson spun on him, jabbing a finger which startled him. "Don't even get me started on injecting yourself with unknown drugs… which we will be discussing at a later date, of that you can be sure, because you seem to be making a habit of it." Carson lowered the finger, much to Rodney's relief. He was going to point out that he could have someone's eye out with that finger if he wasn't more careful, but Carson just steamrolled on right ahead.

"So let's stick to the fact that it wasn't a cure, it was an initial drug trial which I think we may have mentioned once or twice, so I think maybe you should just be thankful you're not writhing in pain followed by death so, rather than complaining that the not death you're experiencing isn't as amazing as you though it'd be, I think you should just shut up and listen for a change."

Rodney blinked at him. _Whoa! _"Hmmm, okay, you may have a point, but in my defence I didn't remember the last time and I didn't know if you were telling me the truth."

Carson looked at him with a heavy pause, "You know, the writhing in pain followed by death is still a possibility," he told him, deadpan.

Rodney froze before he realised it was one of Carson's idle threats. "Oh, yes, very funny. Let's all mock the man who can't remember being mocked. That's very fair and mature."

Carson huffed a laugh and looked at him with a twinkle in his eye, smiling indulgently. Rodney smiled back at him. When Carson continued to smile, he frowned at him… and took a step back, right into the path of Sheppard.

Rodney jumped and looked up as Sheppard clutched him by the biceps and bodily removed him from his foot. Rodney leant back into John, "I think I broke him," he said conspiratorially as he nodded towards Carson, "he won't stop smiling."

Sheppard looked at him fondly, barely containing a laugh before casting his glance to Carson. John looked at Carson's face, and seemed to understand whatever he saw there, as his expression softened. "No, Rodney. I think you fixed him," he said gently with a knowing smile.

Carson snorted a quick laugh, "Och, man. Don't you know better than to feed the beast?" Rodney frowned, sure he had missed something fairly vital, and since when did Sheppard and Carson have secret conversations in public, and did Sheppard just _chortle? _ His train of thought was derailed as the doctor gathered them up and herded them back to Rodney's bed, with his hands in the small of their backs.

Rodney squirmed as he turned towards Carson, lifting a finger as he did so. "Erm, you mentioned feeding?" he said hopefully, his stomach rumbling.

Carson helped him into bed, still smiling widely as he shared a quick glance with Sheppard before he responded, "Yes, Rodney. We'll put in an order for breakfast. No doubt your team will be with you as well." Rodney wasn't sure he liked his best friends having secret conversations without him. "I've called Elizabeth down and then I'll update you all together."

Rodney scowled. Great, more waiting. "It's my head! I don't see why I have to wait and whatever happened to patient confidentiality? Hmmm, out the window, when you think I don't remember it. Well I do, and for future reference, I remember the Geneva Convention too. So you can keep your big needles over there," he said indignantly as he waved a hand at the far side of the infirmary."

"Rodney," Carson tried gently.

"…You're supposed to tell me first. Besides, not sure I'll be able to eat while you're doing your voodoo chants, as that's bound to put me off my breakfast."

"Rodney," he tried again, a little sharper.

Rodney's train of thought went out the window as he had been distracted by, yes, Carson again. "What?" he snapped.

"God, how did I ever miss this," Carson's voice was a cross between frustration and affection.

_Really? You missed this? Me too._ Rodney could feel his lips start to curl up and soon put a stop to that. No one else around the bed seemed to have managed, though, as they were all grinning. "Oh, that's nice. Yeah, that didn't hurt at all. I presume you can fix the knife wound in my back after you fixed my brain… which while were on the subject, can you fix it? Or, do I have to carry around a photo album to remember what my mother looks like?"

He kept very still as he watched Carson. He tried not to let them see how completely terrified he was, or how painful that last remark had been. He couldn't remember his mother and he could feel a black hole inside, because everyone should know what their mother looked like. He had lifted his chin, holding it a little tighter, as he had felt his hold slipping slightly.

He had thought the cure was his answer, and the fact that it wasn't, that he nearly died for a few measly memories angered him deeply. Although, when he thought about what had almost happened, maybe it had been a fair risk, an even trade – to know that he belonged here – and he would have done anything to avoid what might have happened.

He still remembered everything - his thoughts and his frustrations. Most of all, he remembered when he thought of killing these people, sitting around him now with their gentle smiles. He felt guilty just having the though, and even worse, he knew there was a universe out there somewhere where he did the unthinkable.

Every thought has an action, and somewhere out there in another universe, a Rodney McKay had got his memories back and died a living death with the blood of these people, who he loves more than anything, on his own hands. And he knew how close this universe was to that one. Knew how close he came, and if this is all he gets, if his life becomes a mere shadow of what it was, it was still better than that.

For one terrible moment he thought he was going to break down and start crying, right there, in front of everyone. He tried to shake the feelings loose without shaking his head, without giving his fears away to those who care. Ronon Dex showed him how to accept the worst that life can give and carry on, and a part of him was already reconciled to the trade and yet still he hoped for more. He'd been trained to fight for survival by John Sheppard, to hope for the impossible by Teyla, so he couldn't help but hope as he waited to hear his judgement.

"As I was saying," Carson said pointedly, "before I was interrupted. I'll update you all together…" He waved a hand magnanimously at Rodney and bowed his head slightly in an over the top flourish, "If that's okay with you, Rodney," Carson straightened, as his voice turned professional again, "or if you prefer, I can speak to you privately first, but due to the nature of your condition I will have to disclose my findings." Carson had raised an eyebrow at him and waited patiently.

_Oh, well, erm. No, this is killing me, I can't wait any longer. _"Tell me now, here. Tell Elizabeth later anything she misses."

There had been a pause, like they were waiting for more. Carson blinked, "Erm, right." He had given Sheppard another of those silent glances that had begun to get on Rodney's nerves, and in all honestly it was probably more that, than impatience, that caused him to glare at Carson.

"As you know, Rodney, your hippocampus is back to normal, but you still only have partial memory retrieval."

"As you say, I know that," Rodney said sharply. _Just tell me if this is it,_ G_od damn it. _He had waved an impatient hand at Carson, indicating to just get the hell on with it.

Carson paused, his eyes full of sympathy. "From here it's just theory until we get your blood works done, but I suspect that the chemical is still breaking down. As it does so, more memories will become available to you until, eventually, your memories will be fully restored"

"You suspect?" That's the best you've got?"

"Aye, Rodney… and there's more. If I'm wrong, then either this is where you will remain or the chemical can still mutate…"

"Mutate?!" Rodney interrupted, "Are you telling me I could turn into bugboy?!"

"No, Rodney," Carson said emphatically. "As far as we can tell there is nothing in the mutated drug that should affect you on a physical level. But, as long as both the cure and the memory blocker remain in your system, there is a chance they could mutate to affect your brain in ways we are unable to determine."

"Can we stop calling it the cure, please?" Rodney's muffled voice said tiredly, from behind his hands as he ran them over his face.

"Well, we tried calling it the dangerous drug trials but apparently you didn't understand?" Carson retorted, and although it wasn't snapped, his anger was still tangible.

Rodney let his hands fall, dejectedly. He sighed, "Okay, okay. Rodney did a bad thing. Can we please move on? It's not as if I haven't given you enough practise at that…I think." Rodney sighed heavily. "So, just to recap, after the blood test you can see if the chemical is reduced, and maybe get a timescale for when the drug is out of my system completely. If it's already gone then this is as good as it gets. If it's still there, then my brain could mutate until it's gone, if it's breaking down at all. Is that everything?"

"You could code again. The drug was poison based, and as long as it remains in your system, you will be prone to coding."

Rodney went white and stared at Carson. All the anger and bluster went from his voice as he almost whispered. "I… I coded?"

"Yes, Rodney. Twice." Carson's voice was gentled again and full of concern. Everyone seemed highly emotional today as they switched from anger to concern to frustration at the drop of a hat, himself included.

"Did I, you know, flat line?" he asked, not that he really wanted to know, but he just couldn't seem to help himself.

"Aye, Rodney." Carson glanced quickly at Sheppard before glancing back to him again. "The first time you flat lined we managed to revive you but your heart was still coding. We used the paddles on you and you came back… on the third attempt. Then again last night, you coded and we used the paddles again. This time it only took one attempt to stabilise your heart."

Rodney just sat and stared at Carson, the words only just making it through to him after he'd been told yes. No matter how many times it happened to him, he still had trouble dealing with the fact that his heart had stopped. It just seemed so against nature to still be walking and breathing once your heart had stopped. It was like waking up and someone telling you that you're a zombie, the undead. It always gave him the heebie jeebies.

Not to mention the lack of oxygen to his brain. He couldn't help but think that one of these miracle saves was going to come too late and he'd be alive but brain dead - and that always sent chills to the deepest parts of his soul. He looked from Carson to Sheppard, mainly because Carson just did and he felt like he should be doing something. Sheppard looked like he was coming apart at the seams, and to be honest, Rodney couldn't understand why he didn't just up and run away like he normally did, like Rodney wished _he_ could. But Sheppard stayed put with that determined look on his face like he was about to face down a hive full of Wraith.

_Oh, sweet Jesus! _He started to hyperventilate, panicking, and he knew it wasn't good for his heart; especially after two jump starts, but he couldn't help it. The images. The monsters that walked the Pegasus Galaxy, the stuff of nightmares, and they had their hands on him. He gripped the blankets on the bed and told himself it was in the past and that they couldn't touch him here, here in this bed, in the infirmary of Atlantis. He struggled to recreate reality around him. To block out these things that made his soul tremble, telling himself that he couldn't feel their decaying hands on his biceps as they dragged him towards his death.

He finally heard Carson's soothing voice, and although his heart was beating painfully, it had started to calm down. He followed Carson's voice back to the infirmary. He took in the precious lungful of oxygen that Carson was giving him. He wanted to rip the mask off his face and scream at them, but he breathed deeply instead. His anxiety turned to anger that they would let him come across that memory without warning, that his friends would let him face that alone.

Eventually, he was calm enough to take the mask off. "What was it, Rodney?" Carson asked, worry and concern evident in his voice.

"Wraith. You couldn't have warned me about the Wraith." His voice was hard like steel, fury laced in every syllable. "You'd let me face them, like that, and you call yourself friends."

Carson looked like he'd just been stabbed in the heart, his face crestfallen and distraught. Rodney felt guilty for that, but then angry that he should be the one to feel guilt.

Carson's voice was stricken when he answered, "I'm sorry, Rodney, but it has to be this way. If I could make it easier, I would."

Rodney glared at him. "So, can you at least tell me if it gets worse than that?"

Carson looked down, guilt in his face when he looked back up at Rodney. "There will be bad memories, Rodney. Your time here has been violent, but not all bad and I'm hoping it will be tempered by the good times. I won't lie to you, there are still bad things ahead, memories you had trouble dealing with the first time. We're you're friends and we will be here for you now, just as we were then. I doubt you will remember the actual abduction; in fact, I would be surprised if you ever do. We cannot warn you, or describe anything to you. The memories have to come from your own mind."

He could see Sheppard over Carson's shoulder, and he watched as John's eyes widened at the mention of the abduction that he had already told Rodney about. Rodney saw the minute shake of John's head and suddenly Rodney huffs a laugh, he just can't help it. There was a slight twitch of Sheppard's lips and a small shrug of the shoulders, and Rodney felt lighter inside. It was irrational, but it was there. This camaraderie, this childish nature that he and Sheppard shared, like little boys up to mischief, and he couldn't help but be warmed by it.

He didn't understand why he couldn't just be told, but he trusted Carson, and now the anger was gone he was willing to trust him again. He nodded silently and took a large sigh, "If you say so, Carson."

Carson made a deep sigh of his own, the guilt still in every line of his face, "I'm sorry, Rodney."

Rodney scowled and shook his head. He didn't want to spend hours discussing this, so instead he moved the conversation on. "How about we take that blood sample and see what the future holds."

Carson relaxed, smiling, "Aye, lad."

TBC.


	17. Chapter 17

_Hi Guys. Sorry for the delay. It turns out this is not the last chapter and so it continues. I hope you enjoy. Thanks again for your comments - they really make my day._

**The Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 17 Iss2**

Sheppard walked toward the infirmary deep in thought until Teyla stopped him. He looked up, still wrapped in his own thoughts so it took him a moment to realise why Teyla being here was wrong.

_She should be with Rodney._ They were doing relay shifts now, Carson no longer wanting them cat napping in the infirmary, they had been ordered to their own quarters to rest, with only one person allowed to stay with Rodney. He had been on his way to relieve Teyla.

_Why was she here? Oh God. _"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, his hand unconsciously gripping her forearm as he tried desperately to prepare himself for the worst. So caught up in his own fears, he never noticed passers by slowing down, fear reflected in their faces as they listened unashamedly.

She placed a hand on his chest as she shook her head, smiling, "Nothing is wrong, John. Carson wanted to do a complete check on Rodney and by the time he finishes, it will be your shift. I have to meet with the marines," she said with a sparkle in her eye that made Sheppard jealous, because he sure could do with hitting hell out of something. "I just wanted to make sure you would not be delayed."

_Thank God._ He nodded, as everything inside sighed in relief, still oblivious to others around him as they relaxed and carried on their way. "I'm on my way there now, how is he?" he asked tentatively.

Her eyes turned sad. "He is scared and angry. He is verbally attacking the nurses and making jokes to cover how scared he is. He is very worried."

Sheppard nodded. "He's not the only one. He gets his results of the blood works back in the morning. He hates waiting." John swallowed down the emotions and thoughts. He wasn't going to think what if. It was going to be fine. The blood works would show the chemical was breaking down. They_ had _to.

"I expected you to come down after I radioed you," Teyla said curiously, a question in her eyes. _Was he running again._

_Was he? Maybe._ He'd been halfway to the door when he had stopped himself. Teyla had said Rodney had coded, but he was stable again by the time he had answered his radio and the message had been relayed. "If I had come down, Carson would have made me leave again… and I wasn't sure I could."

That had been the reason he had stopped. The idea of Carson getting John's own soldiers to remove him from the infirmary was not a good idea, because he knew that was the only way he would have left. Not to mention his soldiers having to drag their own CO out of the infirmary as he fought to stay. So he'd stayed where he was, pacing and waiting as the morning dragged by. Checking in with Lorne for anything he needed to be updated on, and checking that Lorne would cover for him by organising shifts for the remainder of the week.

Teyla nodded, understanding completely, the question no longer in her eyes. "I see, John."

"I'd best get going, Carson's probably done by now."

She pulled him into the Anthosian greeting and he sighed into it, needing strength anywhere he could find it at the moment. Teyla spoke, "I have asked Ronon to contact us when Rodney gets his results back, as it will be during his shift." They broke apart, and then with a nod and a smile, she sidestepped him and walked away. She didn't ask him to radio her if anything happened, she didn't need to.

He walked on, falling back into his own thoughts, his own fears and worries again. He looked up as he walked into the infirmary, seeing that Carson had finished and that there were no staff in sight. He saw Rodney alone and something was wrong. He was sitting up in bed, with his hands in his lap and his head hanging down. He looked small and fragile, so desolate.

Sheppard edged towards him, "What's wrong, Rodney?"

Rodney tensed instantly, scrubbing away at the tears, trying to brush away the evidence that he cared, because Sheppard had guessed what it was, he just didn't know who. "Who do you remember, Rodney?" he asked, softly.

Rodney looked at him sharply, eyes intense as they roved his face. As he realised that Sheppard knew and understood, Rodney's frame relaxed. He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again sharply, only just managing to keep in half the sob that escaped.

John watched silently and compassionately as Rodney swallowed down his emotions and tried again. "Gall," and as he said the words with such heart wrenching pain, his eyes brimmed with tears again. He scrubbed at his eyes again, hoping to remove the evidence before they fell.

Sheppard sat on the edge of the bed. For one insane moment, he thought about gathering Rodney up into an embrace, but knew two seconds into it they would both tense as the situation became uncomfortable. And he could just hear Rodney calling him a thirteen year old girl for the next six months, so he just placed a hand on Rodney's knee, just enough to say he wasn't alone, that John was here.

Rodney looked at him, red rimmed eyes that looked painful, blue eyes shining bright with a liquid glaze of tears and his cheeks stained raw. His voice was still brittle as he spoke quietly, brokenly.

"It started out okay," he said plaintively, the injustice of something so innocuous hurting him was clear in his voice. "I remembered him, just out of the blue. We were having a discussion about a satellite project he wanted to run and I liked him, he was funny and easy going and then…"

Rodney gasped out a breath, the shock of the image still fresh as he flung out a hand, indicating the infirmary floor as if he could see him there, "suddenly he's lying there on this dusty floor, withered and dry, and although he didn't look like he just had when he'd talked about the satellite, I knew it was him, the same way you know that the duck is really your Uncle Peter in a dream. I knew it was Gall, lying on that dusty floor, dying."

_Duck? Uncle Peter?_ Sheppard was used to Rodney throwing him for a curve and this was normally where he would ask questions to give him a chance to catch up, but Rodney's voice was still so painful and quiet, It was almost like blasphemy to interrupt. All he could do was sit and listen as Rodney rambled his way through the pain, everything tightening inside with a sympathetic ache, because of course he knew what was coming.

"And then I heard this bang… and I spin round and it's the same scene again except … except now there's blood. Blood everywhere and he'd… he'd…God. And the memories are all out of order because suddenly he's alive again and talking, well more like rasping, telling me that I've changed and it's like he came back from the dead just to tell me that. Just to tell me I've changed and that I should go and help you, leave him there because he's already dead and then the scene reverts back and he's dead again. There's blood everywhere, gritty with dust, and this time I walk over to him, his face still… intact, but the rest… and his dead eyes staring at me like he's trying to push the message home, and then I thought it shouldn't be for nothing. He did that to save you so, by God, I'm going to save you because he… he can't die for nothing… not Brendan… not for nothing."

He looked up at Sheppard, "And I did, I saved you, but it wasn't right, damn it. He was a good man and he shouldn't have… not like that… that's wrong and the memories are there now, I can see them in sequence. I know he didn't come back to tell me, but that's still how it feels, that he died to make me do that."

Sheppard's throat felt painful and he could feel the tears in his eyes. Rodney was rambling, words pouring out, almost tripping over each other, and Sheppard had never known the things Gall had said. Rodney's report had just said that Gall thought he was slowing them down, splitting them up, so he had taken himself out of the equation. Rodney probably knew how guilty John would have felt if he'd known that Gall had died for his sake. And now he remembers Rodney's determined stand and knows it was so that a man didn't die for nothing.

"And you did, Rodney. You did it."

"I keep wondering what if I had just left when he told me too. There weren't any other Wraith. He would have been safe on his own and maybe we could have done something. If I hadn't forced his hand."

"You know _now_ that there weren't any other Wraith, but you didn't know that then. There are a thousand things I wish I could change, not least of all you." He ignored Rodney's wounded look, knowing the following words would explain himself, "I wish we'd never gone to the planet where we… lost you, or that I'd searched better, that I hadn't let you explore alone."

Rodney glared at him, "I thought we'd been through this, it wasn't your fault."

"And Gall's death wasn't yours. You can wish all you want, but you can't change it. You didn't put a gun to his head. You did everything you could do, everything you were supposed to do. Normally, you can't do anymore than that, but you did. You made his dying wish a reality. You made his death stand for something; I wish I could do the same."

"He said I'd changed. Have I?"

Sheppard shrugged. "I didn't know you before Atlantis, but no, I don't think so. I think you were just misunderstood before. I think you've always been you underneath. Atlantis just helped more people to see that."

"I'm not so sure."

"Meh, what do you know, you can't remember, " Sheppard said, grinning at him and trying to lighten the mood.

"Sometimes, I think it was better that way," Rodney said softly.

Sheppard gave up on sidestepping the issue, wondering why this always seemed to happen on his watch. "At least you're getting your memories back. That means you're mending, right?"

"Yeah, now I've only got the mutation thing to worry about. As long as I survive the heart attacks, that is. Oh yeah, it's all peachy from here."

"Rodney," Sheppard admonished. "You have to concentrate on the bright side or you'll go mad. You're getting your memories back. Carson's going to fix you. That's a great improvement on two days ago."

Rodney pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish the good memories outweighed the bad. The bad already had a lead when I woke up this morning."

Sheppard frowned, "You didn't tell Carson about them, that I remember. You have to be honest with him, Rodney. If you want to get better, he has to know everything so he can fix you."

"I'm fine, Colonel Kettle," Rodney said sarcastically. Then more seriously, "The life and times of Doctor Rodney McKay were only up to when I went missing. I was talking about after that… when they had me, the things I did."

"Those soldiers were going to take you back, Rodney. They would have destroyed you and they deserved everything they got," Sheppard stated, words tinged with anger that Rodney could allow any compassion for those people.

Rodney gave a quiet bitter laugh, "I'm not so sure they deserved quite everything they got." Rodney's voice turned to almost a whisper, "Besides, I didn't mean them. I meant the others."

Sheppard frowned, "What others?" he asked, as he racked his brain for the meaning of Rodney's words. Then his mind supplied the answer. When they made Rodney practice with the weapons, the aliens had given him real people to practice on and suddenly his words replayed in John's mind. _'The first time I looked down and saw what I had done I wanted him to ask me to do that, to take my own life.'_

"It wasn't you who did those things, Rodney."

Rodney glared at him. "It sure felt like me, I can still feel the force of the weapon jarring in my arms when it met… when it stopped, my eyes watched it happen, it was me," he finished stubbornly.

"Would you do that now?" Sheppard asked quietly.

Anger filled Rodney's face as he retorted, "Of course not," then hurt and vulnerability replaced the anger, "You think I'm capable of that… you think in cold blood that I could murder those poor people," his voice indignant.

"Of course not, Rodney, that's what I'm telling you. That's what I'm trying to get you to understand. You're no more responsible for their deaths than I am. You were not in control."

"No, I wasn't in control," Rodney answered, voice devoid of emotion, just hard conviction.

"Rodney?" Sheppard asked warily, the clear warning in his tone that Rodney better tell him what the hell he meant by that because he'd heard a statement in there, he just didn't know what it said and he couldn't argue with Rodney if he was going to start talking in code.

Rodney sighed, "I just thought that maybe, if I'd fought a little harder, I could have stopped myself… from…." He looked at Sheppard, "Did I tell you how young she was, the first one that I... I knew someone once who looked like her, she was nice… and I…"

"Rodney. Stop," Sheppard said harshly. He continued, intense and sincere. "You've got two PhD's because you don't do things by half. You've never done anything by half. The fact I'm still here is proof of that. I know I'm here because you never stop trying, and I know if there was anything, _anything,_ you could have done, you would have. You told me not to be an idiot. Well, ditto, buddy."

Rodney looked at him, and looked at him some more. Then Rodney shrugged, "I can't help it."

_God,_ _he was so bad at this. Maybe he could get Teyla to speak to him._

"I know what you're saying and logically I agree."

_Oh, thank god._

"But mentally, I just keep seeing them fall at my feet and knowing it's my hand that killed them."

_Damn_

"And I know I wasn't in control, not as if I did those things out of choice."

_Finally, message received._

"But it was still me, and I just can't get passed that. I mean, there's nothing I can do about it so I'll have to live with it, but I just wish… forget it. Like you said, what's the use in wishing?"

_Me and my big mouth._ "I also said there were a thousand things I wish for. At least it show's you're human, that you care, that you won't forget their deaths and they won't pass into oblivion. You carry their memories with you, and you try to do each day justice, that _you_ survived and they didn't."

Rodney nodded, "I suppose." He suddenly looked up at Sheppard, eyes intense and curious, "How many times have we had this discussion?"

Sheppard smiled indulgently, shrugging softly, "Quite a few."

Rodney frowned, "I hate this, this half and half state. I just want to know."

"You should think about seeing Heightmeyer," John said, stopping when Rodney glared at him with such betrayal. Deciding on a different approach, he started again, "A lot of the things that have happened, Rodney… they're bad, okay? To deal with them one at a time is hard, to deal with them all at once is much harder. Maybe it would help if you talked about it."

Rodney looked self conscious, "I was thinking I could just talk to you guys, but yeah," he starting rambling, "I shouldn't, you've probably got enough of your own, right? You don't want to hear mine as well…"

"Rodney," Sheppard interrupted with an understanding smile. "Most of yours are the same as ours, and yes, of course you can talk to us. I just thought you might not want to, some of it might be personal, but we are here whenever you need us," and yeah he was probably going to regret that so just in case he added, "Teyla is an excellent listener."

Rodney smiled, embarrassed and pleased and John patted his knee before removing it, "So, you eaten?"

Rodney scowled, "No, apparently I have to wait for feeding time, even though I'm the only patient in here." He huffed at the injustice of it all and crossed his arms, glaring at Sheppard as if he had orchestrated it all.

"Great, I put in an order so I'll eat with you." He ignored that Rodney was trying to hide how pleased he was at the news and indicated the laptop on the bedside cabinet, "See Zelenka came back."

Rodney looked at the laptop, smiling softly, "Yeah. I remembered him." Rodney's face turned into confusion, "he seemed inordinately pleased about that." He threw a quick glance at John, turning hesitant and a little embarrassed. "Erm… did I heal him with glowy hands?"

John was tempted to say no, just so he could see Rodney's face, but Rodney nearly dying again was still a little fresh. "Yes, Rodney, you did that."

Rodney's eyes widened a little in surprise. "It just seemed a little unbelievable… can I still do that," he asked, a little bit of awe in his voice.

"No. It was superpowers and death or fix you."

"Oh," Rodney said, and Sheppard had to smirk because Rodney sounded like he still wasn't sure which he'd choose.

"So, you wanna watch a DVD?"

"What? Oh…erm, yeah, okay."

Sheppard tried his luck and put in 'Back to the Future'. Annoyingly… or perfectly… Rodney forgot enough that he watched it but remembered enough science to degrade it all the way through and John was grinning like a loon by the time the credits rolled, because at last this was the Rodney he knew. So familiar it made his heart soar, and Rodney's confused glares at his grin was just the icing on the cake.

After that it was time for dinner and they talked about the film and others that Rodney could remember, as well as stories they had read. Rodney had the enthusiasm of experiencing things anew, conversations they'd had before that John let unfold again, revelling in the familiarity of it all.

Sometimes Rodney's arguments would take a different track than the original argument, which was curious. John put it down to part of the equation being missing, a memory lying dormant somewhere that would change Rodney's view when it reawakened.

When Rodney yawned, John grudgingly accepted that it was time to call an end to it, telling himself that they could continue tomorrow and stubbornly cursing himself for thinking even for a split second that that might not be true. He was just so thankful that Rodney had not coded again today. He was not sure he could cope with that.

"Time for sleep, McKay," John said sternly, knowing Rodney was like an errant child when it came to bed time.

Rodney had been about to retort, no doubt scathing John for being his mommy, when he just stopped and stared at John. A slow smile appeared on his lips, eyes glazing a little.

"What?" Sheppard asked, confused.

Rodney shook the softness off, replacing it with an uncomfortable embarrassment, "Nothing, it's just… Well, that's the first time you've called me McKay since I got back, apart from that once."

Sheppard's eyes widened in surprise. He thought back and Rodney was right. He remembered when he realised himself that he was calling the soldier Rodney, because he wasn't anyone he recognised, and how he had called him McKay in an attempt to force him to remember. Now, Sheppard's face turned to curiosity, "What were you going to ask me, when I told you to just ask your question?"

Rodney shrugged, "it doesn't matter now." He snuggled down into the covers, his back to John, conversation closed. John had noticed that he still had that soft smile on his lips though, so John was willing to let it go. Rodney hadn't had a lot to smile about lately so he wasn't about to stop him now.

John watched over him, listening quietly as his breathing slipped into the regular beats of a peaceful sleep. Sitting alone, with just the background noises of the infirmary staff, his thoughts slid back to the afternoon and evening he had spent with Rodney. The sense of peace it had given him took him by surprise. He had not realised how much trepidation he had felt, wondering only on a subconscious level if Rodney would ever be the McKay he knew, if he would still be the friend he valued above all others.

This was only the third day since they had found him on that planet and yet it seemed a lifetime. Those three months of pain still made his chest restrict as his body remembered the ache of loss, but already the feelings had been muffled by the roller coaster of the last three days.

Joy of finding him, the unjustified betrayal that Rodney had forgotten them, anticipation that Carson would fix him and anger that he couldn't. Most of the hours had been spent moving between heart-wrenching pain at the prospective of losing this man again and breath-taking relief that they hadn't; just one close call after another.

Up and down with no time to stop and collect himself, and no time to find his centre and strengthen his resolve against the emotional attack that Rodney's recovery was having on him. He felt fragile and weak, emotions so close to the surface he could feel them, constantly bubbling away under the surface. Today was the first day he had felt that they stood a chance and that everything would actually be okay.

Ronon came early to relieve him. If he was anything like John had been then he had been biting at the bit to get here, trying to hold himself back as long as possible. He asked how Rodney was and Sheppard told him. A little part of him felt like he was betraying a confidence as Rodney's voice had been just a whisper, as if John was his confidant but they needed to know, to be prepared in case he discussed his guilt with them.

When John had finished, he knew it was time to go. He wondered fleetingly if he had maybe elongated his descriptions of Rodney's current state so that he could stay here longer, but regardless the time had now come for him to leave. He was about to say as much to Ronon when Rodney snuffled loudly and sat bolt upright, staring right ahead with a look of such loss on his face.

Suddenly the expression morphed into one of intense anger. He glared around the room, eyes passing over Ronon and coming to land on John. "So long??" He shouted angrily.

"Oh," John said. _Oh God, why didn't I leave five minutes ago_, John thought, because yeah, he should've been expecting this. He bit his lip, because he always got the urge to complete _So long_ with _and thanks for all the fish, _forever grateful that he hadn't on that fateful day_._ Deep down, he knew he should have said something, but _you're my best friend ever_ just seemed so childish and he just couldn't think of anything profound at the time.

"So long," Rodney said, disbelievingly. "That's it? Strapping a bomb to a puddle jumper and barrelling into a hive ship, knowing it's a one way trip and that's all you can say? So long?" and John could hear the hurt underneath as it sent ripples of guilt passing through just as it had the first time he had heard it.

"Well, there wasn't a lot of time, Rodney." _You never know, it might work this time._

"There was long enough for more than 'so' damn 'long'," Rodney retorted scathingly.

_Okay, maybe not. _"We've been through this, Rodney," he admonished, trying the stern approach although it only ever worked when they were surrounded by spears.

He glared at John and then turned to Ronon, "I want you to take this suicidal ignoramus down to the gym and beat some sense into him so that he knows he is NEVER to strap himself to a bomb again."

"Hey!" Sheppard shouted, just as Ronon said, "Already have."

"Really?" Rodney said jubilantly, just a little too jubilantly for Sheppard's liking,

"Hey!" he whined, a little wounded, still wincing at the memory of Ronon's message. Still, it was more subtle than Teyla's, he thought _She_ was gonna kill him.

"Well, good," Rodney said with a decisive nod, folding his arms and looking smugly at Sheppard, seemingly forgiven now he had been punished. Although, to be fair, Rodney rarely held a grudge… except for those few times when he did and John still hadn't worked out what the common denominator on those were yet. Part of him was sure Rodney just picked them at random to confuse a person… which was obviously working.

"You could give him the message yourself now," Ronon said, grinning wickedly.

Sheppard knew his eyes had widened momentarily in the realization that Ronon was right. Rodney could kick his ass at the moment. He glared at Ronon, who was grinning unrepentantly, before turning to Rodney, ready to put the idea out of his head a soon as possible. His words died on his lips as he saw Rodney uncross his arms as the smug look slipped off his face to reveal sadness… and fear.

John glanced quickly at Ronon before turning back to him, "Rodney? What's wrong?"

Rodney shook his head, "Nothing." He squirreled down again, under the covers.

"Rodney, talk to me."

Rodney sighed heavily, looking down at his own chest to avoid eye contact with either of them. "When I think of fighting with those skills it reminds me of the things I did. The people I killed and how I killed them. How they never stood a chance. I'm thinking that the skills will fade with time… and I hope they do. I know that's selfish, but it's the way I feel."

"Selfish?"

Rodney glanced at him and then back to his chest again. "I would actually be able to stand on my own off world. You wouldn't have to worry about me, and I wouldn't be a liability anymore. How many times have you retreated when you would have fought… if I wasn't with you? I'm a risk off world and I know that, that's why I agreed to spar with Ronon and Teyla. Not that I got any better, but still at least I tried. I know I should fight to keep these skills in my head, but every time…" Rodney bit his lower lip as it trembled. "I just can't, I'm sorry."

"Rodney."

Sheppard tried again, determined to get Rodney to look at him. "McKay," and at last, he did. "For a liability you have an awful habit of saving our asses. Yeah, you're actually kind of pathetic in a fight, but you learnt how to use a gun, and not badly either, and your brain more than makes up for how pathetic you are in a fist fight. I just wish you could run faster."

Rodney smirked before he caught himself. "Well, I wouldn't have used the word pathetic."

"I would," Ronon said, smile clear in his voice.

"Yeah, well I beat you didn't I?" Rodney retorted quickly, rising up out of the sheets to glare at him, "And besides, I'd reckon you'd be pretty pathetic yourself trying to re-programme a DHD, so a little more respect for the team Genius hey."

"Point taken," Ronon said, grinning.

Rodney huffed, but Sheppard could see the pleased grin on his face and the sparkle in his eyes before he curled back into the covers to fall asleep. John sat back, deciding that maybe he could stay a little longer; Carson wasn't here anyway.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

_Hi Guys. My beta's wouldn't let me cheat and do a summary type epilogue so this is not the last chapter. All hail the beta's._

_Hope you enjoy and now I must go and write chapter 19. As always - please comment because it makes my day and lets me_

_know if I'm on the right track or horribly lost._

**Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 18 Iss2**

Rodney shared breakfast with Ronon and then they sat talking, Ronon filling him in on the gossip and events that had happened during his three months of captivity.

Every time Ronon spoke, it took Rodney by surprise. He seemed a lot more of a conversationalist than Rodney remembered, although he seemed to be running out of things to say, growing quieter and quieter the better Rodney's recovery was. It was a little unnerving as well, because every time Rodney spoke, Ronon seemed to just stop and listen intently, smiling. Rodney wasn't used to that and just didn't know how to react, so until he figured it out, he was going to ignore it, and he was trying to ignore a lot of things.

Carson approached the bed, and Rodney only had eyes for the folder under his arm, "I've got the results of your blood works, Rodney."

Before he could respond, Ronon interrupted, "We have to wait for Sheppard and Teyla," and without preamble, he radioed them.

Carson arched a questioning eyebrow at Rodney, asking for confirmation given that these were his personal medical reports. Rodney looked at Ronon. His memories told him he could tell Ronon that he was damned if he was going to wait for his own results, but his eyes glanced over Ronon's build. The warrior flexed his muscles, seemingly by coincidence, but Rodney was not so sure.

Sure, two days ago he had bested Ronon in a fight, but now he was stuck somewhere between who he was and who he is. He didn't think it would come to that, but he still found Ronon intimidating and figured he just didn't trust his memories to that degree, "Yes, okay, we can… er… wait."

Carson's smirk said he knew how Rodney had arrived at his decision, so Rodney chose to ignore him while they waited. He listened to Ronon talk, and if he responded he wasn't aware of it, all thoughts focused inside on his fears and tribulations. He had enough memory to know this level of broken was a trip back to Earth. Atlantis would be behind him, and everything that came with it. The thought that he could lose all this for a second time terrified him.

Nerves sparked throughout his body, his hands felt clammy, eyes continually darting to the folder under Carson's arm. His future depended on a little piece of paper in that file. Terrified that it might go against him and deciding that he couldn't wait anymore, he just had to know. Besides, the fewer people here, the fewer people to see him cry as he had a complete melt down. He was about to say that he wasn't willing to wait anymore.

With a nervous glance at Ronon, he opened his mouth… just as Sheppard and Teyla walked into the infirmary. He was sure Sheppard did that on purpose, if he could only figure out how. Of course, they were trailed by Elizabeth and Radek. _Great, now there's an audience to witness my meltdown, oh joy. _He knew he could ask them to leave, could do this alone if he wanted to all - he had to do was ask. Trouble was, they were here because they were as worried as he was and he couldn't bring himself to send them away.

Carson waited until everyone was seated.

"Right, Rodney. The good news is that the chemical is breaking down and we estimate another twelve hours should see it out of your system completely. We also theorise that all your memories will return, the process speeding up as the compound is reduced in your system."

A little of the tension did ease, but Rodney didn't get too excited because he just knew he wasn't that lucky. _Besides, didn't the phrase go; I've got good news and bad news. _

Sure enough Carson continued. "However," and didn't Rodney just know there would be a 'however', "As long as the chemical remains in your system, you run the risk of it mutating. Although you are through the worst, which means it is highly unlikely you will code again, it is still a possibility. Your heart needs time to recover from the stresses of three attacks and until it has regained its full strength you will remain at risk. When you are released, it will be for light duties _only_. No off world trips until your heart is fully recovered."

"Peachy," Sheppard said into the uncomfortable silence that followed, throwing Rodney's earlier words back at him.

Rodney glared at him, but it didn't have anywhere near the ferocity the remark deserved, because even with Sheppard's trademark grin firmly in place, he could still see the brittle emotions on the surface, could see them in the roving eyes that still held nervous fear and worry.

He should have been touched, but quite frankly it scared the hell out of him. Sheppard never showed his emotions and only years of his team seeing him in every conceivable situation had given them the ability to read him, but he could still hide from them if he really wanted too.

The John Sheppard sitting here with a false smile on his face seemed as readable as a neon sign in comparison. He looked like he'd been through hell and Rodney selfishly wanted the old John. The rock that he could lean on as an emotional cripple. The John who could say everything would be okay and make Rodney believe him.

But, he wasn't and so Rodney had to be strong, had to hide his fears and convince the worried faces around him that he was okay.

He turned to Elizabeth. "Are the IOA going to let me stay here until I recover?" he asked, proud of the way his voice stayed steady, as if he were discussing something that didn't mean the world to him.

He was a little surprised and a lot nervous when everybody started exchanging glances. Elizabeth glanced at Sheppard before she spoke hesitantly. "They don't know, Rodney."

Rodney frowned, "They think I'm okay?"

"They don't know you're alive, Rodney."

"Oh," he said as if he understood completely, but the more he thought about it, the more confusing he found it. He just couldn't comprehend. He was about to ask when she continued.

"If we had told them, they would have called you back. We thought Atlantis was the best place to help you remember, and no one would try as hard as us to get you back, to fix you. So, we decided that we wouldn't tell them. The Deadalus visited just before your rescue and no one said a word. We have three months before they are back. We intend to backdate the reports - we rescued you, and Carson found a cure and injected you. As far as the IOA will be concerned your rescue and recovery will happen over four days. It's still a believable amount of time for a recovery, but quick enough that you don't need to return to Earth to recover."

"So, Jeannie…?"

"No," Sheppard said softly. "She doesn't know yet, that you're alive."

He thought about Jeannie thinking he was dead and then he thought about John, the most stoic of them all, and how everyday Rodney's so called recovery seemed to break him a little more and figured it was for the best. "It's been three months, what does it matter if she's told next week instead of last week?" Because in the bigger picture, she was spared the things these people had gone through.

"So, when will I be released?" Rodney asked, already eager to leave, hoping for a private place to experience the meltdown he knew was coming.

"At least thirty two hours," Carson replied and Rodney knew those hours would drag past like days. Carson continued, "Obviously, you'll stay until the drug has been eradicated from your system, and then a further twenty four hours of observation. If there are no complications, then I'll release you to your own quarters."

"Where are my new quarters? I don't want to be walking miles just to get to the labs…" Rodney started.

"They're your original quarters, Rodney," Sheppard interrupted. "Everything is how you left it."

"You kept my original quarters for three months? Didn't you say you thought I was dead?"

"Yeah," Sheppard answered softly, something in his voice spoke of pain, "Some of us weren't wiling to give up on hope, without a body."

Judging by the self righteous looks his team were giving to a guilty looking Radek and Elizabeth this was an old argument that Rodney was not going to touch. He had enough of his own emotions to master without theirs as well.

Looking to change the subject and out of innate curiosity, he turned to Carson, "So, if the chemical mutates, you've got a cure for that, right?"

"We're close, Rodney," Carson stressed, eyes darting away quickly.

"Have you figured out what the mutation would do?" The thought terrified Rodney. Thoughts of a bug blue Sheppard, and an enzyme filled Ford sent sparking jolts of fear through him.

Carson flashed a tentative smile, but didn't keep eye contact. Eyes falling down to the files in his lap as he started to tidy them up, "There's no point going into all the medical explanations. It's highly unlikely…"

"Carson!" Rodney snapped in frustration. Everyone went a little bug eyed for a second and there was an uncomfortable silence while Rodney bit down on his emotions, pushing down the fear. He ignored the others around them, concentrating on Carson, needing him to understand. "This is my _mind_, Carson. This is who I am. I need to know, to understand what is happening to me, and anything that might, even if it's just a possibility. I need to know."

Carson closed his eyes, and when they opened there was a world of hurt in them that scared Rodney enough without Carson's pleading tone as well, "Rodney…"

"Tell me," Rodney commanded sternly, fear turning to anger.

"It will wipe your memories, not just make them inaccessible. You will no longer be able to form long term memories. They'll be gone, you'll be gone." Carson's eyes were filled with unshed tears, voice brittle with painful emotion. There were horrified gasps from Radek and Elizabeth, everyone staring at him in shocked silence.

He didn't even notice them. Eyes still trained on Carson but not seeing, his mind trapped in a loop as he tried to comprehend. _Gone_. Everything he had ever learnt, all the wonderful things he had seen. _Jeannie, John, Teyla, Ronon, e_veryone he ever knew would be a stranger to him. People who were gone, who only existed in his memories like his mother, like Ford, they would truly be gone now. All he knew, how the stars talked to each other, the beautiful equilibrium of order and chaos in numbers… Atlantis… _Oh, God, Atlantis_. This city made his heart soar and his mind sing and he would have to leave it behind and never know why he was incomplete.

"I want to be alone now."

"…Rodney…" Teyla started, reaching out to him.

"No! I want… _need _to be alone now." He looked at Sheppard, knowing he would understand and make the others see that he had to have this. "Please."

Sheppard nodded and Rodney tried to ignore the way it knocked tears lose from his eyes and the way his lips trembled as he stood and started herding the rest of them out. Ronon's jaw was so tight he looked like he would never speak another word, Teyla's eyes drowning in sorrow. Radek's eyes seemed filled with understanding at the things he would lose. Carson and Elizabeth… it was all too much and it pushed in against his grief and he just tried desperately to hold on. He just needed to hold on until they left, just hold on. He watched them leave through blurred eyes as the meltdown began.

He gripped his arms around his torso as he squirmed back down under the covers, his breath hot and humid as tears fell. _I'd never know what I'd lost but somewhere inside I'd have to know. Surely, you can't lose something as precious as Atlantis and not know somewhere inside that it's gone._ He closed his eyes against the heat of the tears, body racked with sobs.

Eventually, the tears subsided, leaving Rodney emotionally exhausted and he drifted into a fitful sleep. He didn't know that Carson came and stood at his bedside, looking over his friend as he whispered. "I'll fix it, Rodney. I won't lose you again. If it mutates, I promise, I'll find a way to fix it."

As Carson moved away, Ronon moved in from the shadows where he had been watching over Rodney. Just because Rodney wanted him to go, it didn't mean he could leave him unprotected, so he had watched from the shadows; watched Rodney's pain and felt it in his heart.

Now, Rodney was asleep and Ronon could move in to watch closer, to be there if he was needed. No one on his team would repeat that mistake, the consequences too dire, and they would ensure Rodney was never left alone again.

Rodney mumbled, shuffling into wakefulness. He tried to snuggle into the pillows, trying to push awareness back while he tried to figure out why it was so bright. It seemed half awake was good enough for his mind to remind him of everything. He opened his eyes, staring straight ahead. Having a minor meltdown and a sleep in the middle of the morning disgusted him. He felt so low, still weighed down by the weight of Carson's words. _You'll be gone_. He sighed heavily. Determined he wasn't going to breakdown again, he turned over as he sat up, starting at the sight of Teyla sat next to his bed. He nodded politely, not quite sure what to say as he continued to sit up, organising the sheets nervously.

"Rodney, I am pleased you are awake," Teyla said, smiling.

"Well, that makes one of us," Rodney said sarcastically.

"You did not want to wake up?" Teyla asked, worry and confusion in her voice and expression.

"Just for the next twelve hours, till I don't have to worry about this mutation thing. It's going to be a long day."

"And we will be with you," Teyla said, laying a hand on the bed. Rodney nodded. It would be useless to argue, if one of them was in this bed he would ignore them and stay too so he wasn't going to waste his breath.

"Well, you may as well make yourself useful," he handed her the laptop, "I'm going to make a living will, and you're going to write it for me."

Teyla took the laptop, opening it up and switching it on, having become familiar with both laptops and the English alphabet and now compiled her own reports, although spell check was a godsend. "What is … a living will?"

"It's instructions for my care if I develop diminished responsibility. Ready?"

"Yes," she said as she held a finger of each hand poised over the keys.

Rodney paused, looking at her two fingers poised as they were and then figured beggars couldn't be choosers making a mental note not to knock two fingered typists in Teyla's hearing ever again. He nodded in acknowledgment before he started. "This is the living will of Doctor Rodney McKay…" he waited for her to catch up before continuing, and so they went on, Rodney dictating and Teyla writing piecemeal until Teyla broke the rhythm by not writing down the last line.

Rodney looked at her with questions on the tip of his tongue, only to see her face distraught, "What?" he asked, eyes roving over her face as if he could see the answer written there, "What's wrong?"

"You don't want to be…resuscitated?" she asked in disbelief, even as she fumbled around the unfamiliar word she had heard many times, but rarely used.

He suddenly felt very self conscious that she should care so deeply for him. He still wasn't used to this side of his team's friendship, even after all this time. "Well, only if I'm… you know… space cadet," and at her confused expression he tapped his head, "no longer here."

He sighed, "Look, I'd be willing to give it a go if there was a cure on the horizon, but there won't be. Yes, if they fixed the problem of storing long term memories, then I could function again, probably learn everything again, but the original memories will be gone;, everything that makes me who I am… I'll be gone. The person they brought back, it wouldn't be me… so what's the point?" He shrugged self consciously as he looked over at her.

Her eyes were filled with tears and she looked like she was hiccupping as her lips trembled, "Teyla…" he started, trying to get her to understand.

"No!" She said sternly. "No, you listen to me now," she said, her voice painfully raw with emotion and anger, and her finger pointing out every syllable. His eyes widened in surprise… and maybe a little fear. He nodded dumbly.

She nodded is response, a nod that just shouted, _Damn right you will_. "We lost you once and we will _not_ lose you again. You cannot give up. We thought you were dead and yet here you are. We found you and brought you back once and we can do it again. If what you say is true then we will recreate you, we will find a way and you will be you again. If it takes our lifetime, you will come back to us, but only if we have the chance. You cannot do this." She picked up the laptop and put it heavily on the bed. "I will not type this." Her eyes bored into his, glaring a challenge that if anybody typed it she would not be pleased.

"You can't waste your life trying to get me back, Teyla," Rodney stressed.

"It's my life to do with as I choose," the challenge still in her eyes.

He looked at her, really looked at her. She was adamant and he would spend his last days arguing with her over this, but it was more the intensity of it that threw him. Teyla was always calm, words carefully chosen, always the voice of reason and she always faced life's difficulties head on. This Teyla was as angry as he had ever seen her, her voice almost unrecognisably coarse with emotion. He realised she really needed this, that she wasn't ready to say goodbye to him yet and to think he had touched an alien being to that degree when most of his own race just wanted to pummel his head in, well," it blew him away.

He realised that he wouldn't know, if his body was dead or alive. It would not matter to Doctor Rodney McKay because he would have left the building, so what did it really matter if his body continued on after him, as creepy as the thought was. It could still do some good if it gave Teyla some peace, gave her time to deal and have closure. All the things she did for him, all the times she had saved his life. He could do this little thing for her, couldn't he?

He reached down and picked up the laptop, passing it to Teyla. "Okay, you win. Let's make if official though, eh?"

Teyla let out a breath, smiling as she took the laptop eagerly.

"Right, where were we?" Rodney asked.

"In the event that my heart stops…" Teyla intoned.

"I wish that all means necessary be used to resuscitate me."

Teyla typed away, a beaming smile on her face that she couldn't seem to displace, even when she had to ask how to spell resuscitate. Rodney had one too, although he hid his a little better. He felt lighter and more at ease than he had when he had first woken, than he had in a while actually. People cared about it, they wouldn't let him go without a fight and they would be with him every step of the way. He wasn't used to this attention, to people feeling this strongly about his wellbeing, but it was something he could come to like.

They carried on with his living will until lunch arrived… with needles because apparently it was better to get blood samples on an empty stomach, which didn't make any sense to Rodney, but it wasn't like he could argue the fact… although he might have mentioned how idiotic it sounded.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

_Still more to say apparantly as this is not the last chapter. Hope you enjoy and please comment as I like to know how it's going from your end._

_- Many thanks._

**Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 19 Iss1**

After lunch John arrived to relieve Teyla. He was very subdued, but hiding it well with a wide grin. Rodney noticed John's damaged knuckles and he looked at John out of the corner of his eyes, "How you doing?" he asked quietly.

A day or two ago, he would have asked bluntly what happened. He remembered the midnight chats full of emotion and felt embarrassed at showing so much of himself, of seeing so much of John. They didn't normally do that, didn't normally show that much of themselves, but he had forgotten that and had spoken from the heart and John had responded, knowing he needed it and giving it. But now… now he was more himself and he didn't know how to say those things, didn't know how to open himself up to another person, even his team, and so he tripped around the outskirts and hoped John knew he understood without saying the words, just as they always had.

John's eyes widened for a fraction of a second in surprise. He looked at Rodney with a tired smile, "I'm doing okay. Be better when you're out of here, though, so if you could stop lazing around and get on with the recovery, that'd be great."

Rodney smiled, "I'll see what I can do."

Sheppard's return smile faded, voice turning soft and serious, "How are you?."

Rodney glanced at him and then back to his lap. He nodded as he answered. "Okay, actually." He shrugged, "Just want the twelve hours to be up like _now_. I don't know if you noticed or not but I hate waiting for things. You'll be pleased to know that I intend to do everything possible to avoid yet another middle of the night girly chat with you again this evening."

"Well, that's good. Another one of those could tip me over the edge. They'd be referring to me in past tense as Nut Job John," he said teasingly as he smiled softly, obviously eager to lighten the mood.

Rodney smiled and huffed a little laugh, "What makes you think they don't already?"

"Because they're too busy calling me Colonel Marvellous. I've seen the banners."

Rodney gave a half laugh, before he could stop himself. He managed to control it and returned a response dripping in sarcasm, "Yes, of course. How could I forget that… oh yeah… memory wipe. You wouldn't be feeding me false information, would you?"

"No," John said with a smirk, "I really can leap tall buildings in a single bound and kill people with my laser vision, and yes you do send all your money to my bank account."

"Aaahhh, just so we're sure then," Rodney smiled, always at ease with John who never took things the wrong way, or took them to heart. Who always got his sci-fi references and could talk about nothing for hours, which is exactly what he needed right now. Too lose himself in mindless rambles about nothing. "I'm pretty sure I'm very rich. Genius doesn't come cheap you know."

"You always were to too modest, Rodney," Sheppard said, trying to keep a straight face but failing as he fell into chuckles.

"Hey! Didn't anybody tell you; you're supposed to be nice to the sick people."

"You've always been sick and I can't be nice to you twenty four, seven. It's impossible. The universe would have to end or something, and besides, the marines would only get jealous."

Rodney spoke over John's simmering chuckles, "Oh har. Har. Har. Want to call me poo poo head while you're in your five year old mode?"

John coughed away the last of the humour and replied in a condescending tone, as he deadpanned, "You don't get to be a Colonel by calling people poo poo head, Rodney. That's just childish," while a smirk tugged at the edges of his facade.

And so they went on. Mindless, stupid, wonderful mind numbing banter that helped them both to forget about the heart clenching fear that Rodney could be gone and just revel in the things that brought them together as the best of friends. They had dinner together and the mindless banter never stopped.

Radek visited after dinner and joined in, which Rodney thought was very unfair as it seemed to be two against one through most of it, but he held his own and enjoyed every minute of it. The familiar feeling of his synapses crackling into life, as responses lined up to be spoken, and insults raring to be given form**.** He was actually disappointed when Radek had to leave and returned to the labs.

Rodney could feel himself relaxing, falling back onto familiar ground. Sheppard seemed to be relaxing as well judging by the slouch into the chair, with an arm slung over the back and his feet stretched out and crossed over, resting on the base frame of the bed.

*******************************

John felt more relaxed than he had in days, the familiarity of it warming something inside. If he was a cat he might well have been purring.

Rodney frowned at him, "Are you really comfortable like that? It's making my back hurt just looking at you."

Sheppard grinned, "Damn, you're onto my evil plan." He was too relaxed to put a lot of thought into the words, or false emotion behind, them so they fell a little flat.

"What? So, the looking like you've been deboned is just lulling us all into a false sense of security before you strike? I always suspected the hair was a secret weapon – it's definitely not natural."

He frowned at Rodney, pointing a lazy finger at him. "Hey, we agreed to leave the hair alone. You don't mention mine and I don't mention yours."

"Yes, well, all bets are off as I can't remember _that_ agreement. Anyway, what's wrong with mine?" Rodney asked, his tones resentful that there could be anything wrong with it.

"What, apart from the fact you appear to have been short changed?" he changed tacks at Rodney's hurt expression, "Anyway, exactly how long are you going to use the loss of memory excuse? Because judging by the conversations we've had you're not missing a lot of them now."

"Oh yes. Can I take S for Superheroes please," Rodney said sarcastically, his voice turning morose as he continued, "I'm sure that's a criteria for working on Atlantis."

"Well, having been in the science labs, it wouldn't surprise me that it is a prerequisite to work here. Besides, you also remembered the science was bad in Back to the Future," Sheppard offered.

Rodney glared at him, "I can't believe you made me watch that again," his tone indignant, "You've probably killed off valuable brain cells that I won't even remember the loss off. You're a liability."

John flinched, but was sure he hid it well behind a smile. "I was worried you'd only remember the geek stuff. I figured you could do with a little outside input."

"And how long are you going to stick to that story?"

"About as long as you're going to stick to yours. In other words, as long as I can get away with it."

"Well time's up. You've got about a three second life span on that lie."

"Learn by my mistakes, young Padawan," Sheppard intoned straight faced.

"Padawan? Please. I'd be a Jedi way before you. You're more Solo - shoot first and wonder why it blew up later."

"Han Solo is _cool_," Sheppard said, eyes sparkling as he envisioned himself as one of his heroes; not that he would admit that to anyone.

Rodney looked at Sheppard. "Yeah, he is," his voice sighed in resignation. _Solo was cool, John was cool. Rodney was not._

John gave an amused smile because he could almost hear Rodney's thoughts out loud as he always expressed them so clearly on his face, "Skywalker was cool when he was a Jedi," he offered.

"True," Rodney conceded.

"Means your dad was Darth Vader though," John added thoughtfully.

"I think he must have been the emperor, because Jeannie was definitely Darth Vader."

John broke out in laughter, "Jeannie's nice and polite. She's hardly Darth Vader material."

Rodney frowned at him sulkily. "She's nice to you. She's horrible to me, always has been. She's got an evil tongue."

"An evil tongue?" Sheppard repeated disbelievingly, "What did she say?" he asked with the barely contained snigger clear in his voice throughout.

"Tons, and there's no need for you to know any of them. You'll probably find them funny too. You have a weird sense of humour sometimes," Rodney accused, still sullen.

"It's funny how yours is exactly the same until it's directed at you."

"Really, I don't remember that," his voice reaching a higher pitch, as it always did when he lied.

Sheppard rolled his eyes.

Rodney's blue eyes were wide, eyebrows raised. A wonky picture of innocence asking _What? _

Sheppard smirked, "Oh really. You know the more you use the excuse, the faster it'll wear out. You should keep it for really important stuff, like avoiding form filling… or Kavanagh."

Rodney nodded, "Fair point." He yawned wide, which explained why John had won that argument so succinctly.

Sheppard was about to order him to lie down and get some sleep when Carson came over. "Good, you're awake."

Rodney immediately tensed, "Well, glad to see all those years at Sheep Veterinary School gave you more than an unhealthy love of sheep." There was a harsh twist to his words, but Carson let the bitter words flow over him. Rodney always got a little scathing when he was scared.

Carson carried on regardless, "We got the results back from this morning's blood trials. The chemical is continuing to reduce. I thought you'd want to know. We won't get the other results until the morning, but we're still on track. I'd like to take another sample of blood now, if that's okay?"

Rodney went through varying emotions, ending in resignation, "Okay."

"You want me to step outside?" Sheppard asked, already rising from his chair.

"It won't take long, so it's up to you, Rodney."

"No, you might as well stay. You can make sure he doesn't drink it and that he at least leaves me with some."

So John sat back down. He didn't say a word as he watched Rodney flinch as the needle neared the skin, but he resolutely steadied his arm as Carson slid the needle of the syringe under the skin and took a blood sample. John wondered how he had ever thought of Rodney as a coward and hated himself for even thinking it once.

Rodney was almost back to himself, and it was easy for John to forget how scared he'd been of needles when he first returned to Atlantis; easy to forget the fear would still be there hidden behind the snark and false expressions of bravery.

"Well done," Carson said softly as he slid the needle out.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" Rodney replied, which might have been okay if it hadn't sounded so very bitter.

Carson flashed a tight smile, probably just as unsure at what to say as John was. He capped the syringe in the uncomfortable silence, finally breaking it as he enquired how Rodney was.

"I'll be okay when I know this stuff is out of my system."

"Not long now, Rodney. You're doing great."

Rodney glared at him, but deflated when he saw how vulnerable Carson was. "It's all your work so far," he conceded.

And John had been wondering about that. Rodney didn't normally notice people's finer nuances. Hell, they normally had to be crying or screaming for Rodney to realise they were hurt – and he always seemed surprised.

Now, he not only seemed to notice the slightest nuances, but he reacted to them almost on a subconscious, instinctual level. John was only too aware how beneficial it would be to a bodyguard to notice hate or anger on that level and that reacting to it on a subconscious level would result in a faster response time; time that might save a life.

John wondered if it was like the fighting skills and that it would fade eventually. Rodney was right, both skills would be priceless in the field, but like Rodney, he hoped they faded into nothing. They were stark reminders that Rodney was not as he was and John hated anything that made it obvious. He always preferred denial when he could get it.

"Well, I'll get this to the labs," Carson responded, self consciously, obviously unsure how to react to Rodney conceding credit. "I'll see you in the morning, Rodney. Make sure you get as much sleep as possible, it helps the memories form and settle, okay?"

"Yes, Mommy." Rodney suddenly looked Carson intensely in the eyes, "Thanks for everything Carson." He nodded, "Good night." And John could hear the 'just in case' in it… the goodbye in it.

Carson looked back just as intently, "I will see you in the morning, Rodney," and John smiled when he heard the command in it… the everything will be okay promise of it.

"Good night, Doc," he said. Carson nodded in response, "Night, Colonel," before he turned and left for the medical labs.

"You heard the doctor," Sheppard said, waving at the bed.

"He's gone," Rodney's confused tones queried. _I don't have to do as he says if he can't see me_, unsaid but ringing loud and clear.

"And I can go get him back if that's what it takes. You need sleep, so just lie down. If you're a good little boy, I might read you a story."

Rodney glared at him, "Traitor."

"Yes, I am," John replied unrepentantly. "Now, lie down."

"I'm a grown man. I should be able to choose my own damn bedtime," the frustration clear in his tones, but he was squirreling down under the sheets nevertheless.

"Language, Rodney, or do I have to get the soap again."

Rodney froze in mid squirm, turning just his head to John with a factor ten glare. These were generally only seen before a rant of biblical proportions and a stubborn streak that would put any mule to shame.

"Okay, okay," Sheppard conceded, raising his hands in defence, "I promise no more kiddie jokes." _Because apparently two's your limit_. He made a mental note that he may have just inadvertently discovered Rodney McKay's Achilles heel… or destruct button.

Rodney narrowed his eyes at him, clearly a non believer. John smiled his most charming smile and repeated the oath, "Promise. Now get some sleep. You heard the Doc. It'll do you some good."

Rodney huffed but squirreled down under the covers and Sheppard tried not to think how funny it would be if he started humming rock a bye baby right now. He watched Rodney drift off to sleep and he couldn't help smiling. It had been too long since he and Rodney had just sat with idle banter. He was refusing to let his thoughts wander to the worst scenario possible - that Rodney could still be lost to them - so he kept his mind busy on other thoughts. He thought about what they might discuss tomorrow, what that shiny instrument in the corner might do, what Rodney might be dreaming of with that smile on his face and wondered if he remembered Nobel Prizes yet. He thought of anything and everything bar the thing that scared him the most. _Rodney. Gone._

Eventually Ronon came to relieve him and John returned to his quarters. He hesitated for a millisecond outside his doors, suddenly remembering what lay behind them, and with a sigh he entered. He stopped in the half light of his quarters as he looked around morosely. He sighed, knowing he couldn't leave it like this. His mind returned inevitably to this morning, to the actions that had led to the destruction scattered around him, and to the thoughts and feelings that pushed him to breaking point.

_He had ushered everyone out of the infirmary, understanding why Rodney needed to be alone to take it all in, he had felt exactly the same. Everyone had gathered outside the infirmary, not wanting to move far and gaining strength from each other. _

_He had walked right past them, noticing that Ronon was watching Rodney still. He had felt Teyla's eyes on him as he had walked away at a quick pace, thankful that she let him go without a word. He had made his way directly to his quarters, not meeting anyone's eyes, just desperate to hold on to his emotions until he reached the sanctuary of his quarters. He had walked in, much like tonight, coming to a disorientated halt in the middle of his room. _Rodney, gone, _The single thought had circulated around and around, undoing him a little more each time._

_He'd remembered stories from World War Veterans, how they felt antsy without their brothers in arms at their sides when they returned home. How they created bonds that no one outside of the trenches had understood. Stronger than any family ties or past loves; these new bonds made strangers' lives more important than your own and their loss unbearable, something never to recover from. Bonds only understood by other veterans with their own ties that bound them stronger than any oath or blood._

_John thought he had understood that bond in Afghanistan. Hadn't he risked everything for Mitch and Dex? But now, he knew the truth. Atlantis had shown him that conflict for survival created bonds that tied people to your very soul. He had gone against orders for his friends in Afghanistan, but he would rip the galaxy apart for his team._

_He had tried to remember when it started. But, it wasn't any day, or week or year that he realised, that __he just_ knew_ he could trust them to bring him home, regardless of the sacrifice. That they had become a part of his very being. He didn't know when he realised they meant everything to him, and him to them. It just was,_ _and it felt as if it had always been that way, and the depth of it scared him._

_He had a responsibility to everyone here,_ _though. He couldn't allow people to see that he valued some over others,_ _because people looked to him and he had to be confident and fair. He had to make the right decisions without emotion and he couldn't allow anyone to see anything that would question that decision, or that would question him. He kept his emotions on the inside where no one could see them. He'd always been that way to a certain extent, but more so here. _

_Now, his emotions were flooding through the cracks. His control a distant memory. He'd held it together for three months now, struggling to carry on with a gap inside a mile wide,_ _and then they'd got Rodney back and he was supposed to be okay, damn it! John wasn't supposed to be ripped open again and again. They were supposed to get Rodney back and he was supposed to slip back into the huge space he'd left behind. But he hadn't._

_He'd seen Rodney under the surface,_ _but still too deep for John to reach and then there had been the fight with Ronon. Rodney might as well have got up in John's_ _face and shouted, 'I'm not the man you know anymore', and John wanted to shout that it wasn't fucking fair, Rodney was home now, it should be okay now._

_And Rodney had told them the things he had done, the things he had endured, the dark things that John was supposed to protect him from,_ _and the guilt and the sorrow was overwhelming and then Rodney had injected himself. He had been lying there like he'd died. Like he'd left them again and somehow the empty space he threatened to leave behind again seemed larger, more intimidating than before,_ _and John knew he'd never be the same again,_ _but then Carson had dragged Rodney back._

_Every time he tried to hold himself together, Rodney's recovery threatened to tear him apart again and John's emotions were raw and tender and then Rodney had actually died, his heart had actually stopped and Carson dragged him back again, twice, and it hurt, it hurt so damn much and then he'd thought we're almost there. We just have to keep him alive for twelve hours and he'll be back, he'll slot into that empty space again and I won't feel empty anymore._

_And then Rodney's starting to act like himself and just when John's thinking it'll be okay, that there is only hours till he's finally home, Carson tells them. Keeping his heart going won't be enough, his heart can still beat and yet he can still be gone. Just an empty shell and that's made even worse due to the fact that Rodney is larger than life and overflowing with personality, so much so that John often wonders if there is more than one in there and to think he'll be as empty as John feels, and that's wrong and it's not fair... and that's when he broke_.

_A distant part of his mind knew people had probably heard him,_ _but he'd been too busy shouting at the gods, the galaxy, at life,_ _to pay it any mind. Things flew through the air, hitting the walls, the floor and the ceiling with resounding crashes that just weren't satisfying enough and even his screaming rage hadn't made enough noise to soothe the pain that this galaxy took his friend away and sent back a cheap imitation._

_He'd finally stopped throwing things and started hitting the walls with his fists, feeling pain on the outside of his body instead of deep inside and it was so refreshingly new that he just kept hitting and hitting and screaming out his fury until he was hoarse. Eventually he stopped and collapsed, turning as he did so to rest his back against the wall, head tilted up so he didn't have to look at the destruction in his room. He realised his cheeks were wet and then he remembered the tears falling and he felt weak and embarrassed even if there was no one here to see him. He isn't supposed to cry. He wanted to scrub the evidence away, but at the same time he didn't want to acknowledge them. He pulled his black shirt sleeve down so that he could grip the edge of it and rubbed his cheeks dry._

_He sat there for a long time, feeling heavy and wrung out. He also felt a little stronger inside and thought he might be able to walk into the infirmary now at least. He finally dragged himself up, and he righted his bed back onto its legs as he passed on the way to the bathroom. He had stripped down and climbed into the shower, feeling refreshingly numb and weary. He had kept the water warm, finally easing tired muscles that had been pulled taught with tension for too long, the refreshingly new sensation of his knuckles stinging. He had climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel round himself. He'd picked his way across the floor, stepping over remnants of destruction till he'd reached his bed and then collapsed into it, sleeping deeply for the first time in too long._

He stood there now, looking at the destruction that he didn't have the heart to face before his shift with Rodney, thinking how long ago it all felt. But now he's starting to feel a little human again. Rodney's starting to fill that space again, and so he bends down and starts picking things up and putting them away and he tries not to rip open the wound again, tries not to think that he never said goodbye to Rodney before he left the infirmary.

TBC.


	20. Chapter 20

_Well, here it is. Chapter 20. Standing ovation to my betas for not letting me get away with anything. Enjoy._

**Cynical Soldier**

**Chapter 20 Iss2**

The next morning everyone found an excuse to join Rodney for breakfast. All of them were talking about the past, each testing Rodney's memory in their own way and feeling better when they found it still there, though there was an uncomfortable edge to the conversation.

_Was the drug still in his system? How little was needed to still cause a mutation?_

All were only too aware that Carson wasn't there, and why. Everyone kept glancing towards the science labs, waiting for him to show, waiting for answers. _Was Rodney safe yet?_

Conversation was stilted, with everyone distracted by their own thoughts and fears. Each person was here because if the drug did mutate then they wanted to get their fill of Rodney McKay before he faded away, drink in every syllable, every nuance that made him who he was. Something more to remember after he was gone and someone else walked around with his body, his face, and his name.

Most of them were thinking of the last time they were here, when Rodney had been accelerated to a semi-ascended being. He had been returned to them at the eleventh hour by a miracle save, actually more like the thirteenth hour, but saved nonetheless.

The Atlantis expedition had its fair share of eleventh hour saves, but then again it had a high ratio of near death experiences too. A lot of the saves had been luck, a chance comment leading genius synapses to a solution, a lucky discovery saving the day. They probably had more than their quota of miracles – but that didn't stop everyone praying for one more.

Ronon stilled. Teyla, John and Rodney recognised Ronon at alert and followed his gaze to find Carson walking across the infirmary. Elizabeth and Radek turned to see what had captured their attention, as Carson reached the bed with a smile, "Morning all." He turned to Rodney, "I've got your results. Would you prefer to hear this privately or shall I tell you now?"

Rodney's eyes flicked nervously over the group, "I'd like to be alone," he crossed his arms, lifting his chin, prepared for an argument that his eyes said he wasn't ready for.

Carson turned to the rest of them, "If you would move to the waiting room, I'll be with you shortly." When they didn't move immediately, Carson glared at them. They all nodded guiltily and made their way out. Sheppard gave a last look over his shoulder, as he reluctantly followed them. Carson waited till they had left completely before turning back to Rodney. He smiled as he took a seat next to the bed, "Right, I've got the results from the…"

"Carson! Just tell me," the emotion in his words threatening to break them if it wasn't for the underlying anger fortifying them. His voice fell, sounding small and vulnerable as he asked hesitantly, "Is it still there?"

Carson smiled, as he shook his head, "No. Your blood works from last night are clean. The chemical has been completely eradicated from your system."

Rodney went from tense and taut to boneless as he sagged in relief. "Thank God," he gasped as he fell back against the pillows. He gave a half laugh before the tears started, deep gasps accompanied them as he tried to compose himself. His voice small and raw as he tried to explain, "I thought… I would just fade away… that I'd lose all this, lose me. Oh God. I can't believe I'm crying," he raised a hand to his eyes, trying to scrub them dry.

Carson looked on fondly, "It's understandable, Rodney. Sometimes we don't know what we're holding inside until the time has passed. You've been through a lot." He stood up as he continued, "Would you like to tell the others or would you prefer it if I did?"

Rodney looked at him hesitantly, "Would you tell them, I just…" he tailed off, hands waving, unable to find the words as his emotions still overwhelmed him.

Carson patted his arm, "I'll tell them."

"You won't tell them I cried will you?" Rodney asked suspiciously, although he sounded almost resigned to the fact that Carson would.

Carson chuckled, "Consider it doctor patient confidentiality. I'm going to put the rest out of their misery and give you a chance to get your head around the news. I'll be back later. We still have to discuss the rest of your recovery. Your heart is still weak and we need to take things slowly, but you should be fine if you don't push yourself." Rodney nodded as Carson moved away.

The minute the doctor moved into the waiting room the tension amplified instantly, the air turning thick as molasses. Each of them had been deep in their own thoughts, but now they stood to attention, some stepping forward eager to know, others hanging back hesitant of the news he might carry. He told them Rodney was clear of the drug and the relief was palpable. He told them about Rodney's recovery, knowing that they would ensure he got the rest he needed no matter how sneaky and stubborn Rodney would be. They would not risk losing him after coming so close. Smiles and relieved sighs filled the room, each looking to each other with bright eyes. It had been a rough week for everyone.

As the others shared their relief, Elizabeth radioed the control room with the news, asking Chuck to notify the department heads, reminding everyone in the process that they were not the only ones eager to know. There were many members of the expedition that had been waiting throughout Atlantis with baited breath to hear about the man they had come to respect and cherish, even if they still wanted to strangle him on occasion. The rumour mill would ensure the good news travelled fast and Atlantis would breathe a little easier today.

Carson waited until Elizabeth had turned off her radio before addressing her, "I'm also going to ask Heightmeyer to organise scheduled sessions that will be obligatory for an initial period. He will try everything to get out of it, so be warned."

He turned back to the others, addressing them all, "No one will be allowed back until authorised visiting times." He raised a hand, forestalling their protests, "it's only for a couple of days. Rodney should be released in a day or two, all being well, but it's important he get as much rest as possible." He then told them that he was returning to Rodney to discuss his ongoing treatment and he wanted sometime to go over any questions Rodney might have, as well as do some final checks he needed to do to be sure that all the memories had returned, assuring them that he expected them to be intact.

He said his goodbyes, turned and left, but was caught short by Sheppard's hand on his arm just outside the room. "Thank you, Carson."

The doctor cut a sideways look at him and shrugged, "It still feels like I fixed my own mistake. It's hard to take credit for that."

"I was just thinking that you fixed _my_ mistake," John said. "You did everything you could, and it was your cure that fixed it." He gave a half conciliatory shrug, "yeah, it would have been better to test it first and yeah, it could have gone horribly wrong, but it didn't. You created a cure that worked and you never let him go. Thank you, Carson."

Carson nodded before he responded, feeling some of the tension ease at Sheppard's words, hearing the logic of them, and maybe, eventually, he might even believe them. "Maybe, Rodney isn't the only one that needs to recover. Maybe, it's something we all need?"

Sheppard smiled his trademark smirk and nodded, "Maybe," and Carson hadn't realised till now how long it had been since he'd seen that boyish smirk, the real one anyway.

Carson returned the smile, "I'd best get back to Rodney."

"How is he?" Sheppard asked tentatively.

"He's a little overwhelmed but he's going to be just fine, Colonel." Carson nodded, smiling as he walked back to Rodney. He found him staring into space, obviously caught up in his own thoughts, the tears now dry, a half smile on his face that he couldn't seem to remove and a happy joy in his eyes. Carson smiled, full of understanding and feeling the same. At last, Rodney was back.

He sat on the same chair he had vacated a short while ago. "How you doing, Rodney?"

"Aren't you supposed to tell me that?" He snarked, too relieved and full of joy to coat it in his normal level of sarcasm.

"Fine, you're doing just fine, lad."

"You trained on sheep, what do you know? Do I look like a sheep to you?" Rodney grinned.

Carson shook his head, smirking indulgently "For the last time, Rodney. You know full well where I got my degree and you know sheep were not involved in anyway. Unlike you and your internet degrees. They're gonna catch onto you eventually you know."

Rodney gave a half laugh. He cut a sideways look at Carson turning serious and self-conscious. "Thank you, Carson. I should have said it sooner. Thank you."

Carson nodded, "Just doing my job… lamb chop."

Rodney pointed at him. "Don't go giving me any of your pet names just because you haven't found any willing sheep in the Pegasus galaxy yet."

Carson chortled, "I give up." He looked at Rodney, turning serious, "We still have some more things to discuss." Rodney seemed to sober up quickly, good feelings fading away behind a nervous tension. "I'm setting up obligatory sessions with Heightmeyer for an undisclosed period."

"I knew it!" Rodney's trademark snap made it back into his tones, "I knew you'd make me see her. I'm okay, Carson, I don't need to see her, or hear her prattle on about why I dream of whales."

"You were kidnapped, tortured, brainwashed, lost your identity, have taken lives and have nearly died four times during your return. It is automatic procedure for any of those, the fact you have experienced all of them means this is not up for discussion. You _will_ see her, and you _will not_ be allowed to return to work until after your first session."

"What!?"

"You heard me, Rodney. You don't go to your sessions, then you don't go to your lab, simple as that, lad. Nothing you can say will change my mind and there is no way around it. I have already spoken to Elizabeth so don't even _think_ about circumventing me. Just get used to the idea."

Rodney glared at him and that was definitely back to full power, "I hate you."

Carson smiled. "Yes, I love you too. Still gonna happen, lad." Carson had learnt that the only way to deal with Rodney when you were serious was to use his own tactics against him and just steamroll ahead and ignore him. "Now, we need to discuss your heart. It's been put under a lot of stress, Rodney. It is very important that it is allowed to regain its strength. This means that you have to follow a strict diet for at least the next month. You will only be allowed back to the labs on half days for the first two weeks after your convalescence, and only back to full days when I say you're ready. _And_ I want to see you in here every three days for a check up until I say otherwise."

Rodney slumped back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling, "Oh God, kill me now," he breathed, a hand over his eyes.

"Don't even…" Carson trailed off, unable to form words weighted down with the raw emotion of too many days filled with too much pain and loss.

Rodney jerked upright, hand falling from his face to show eyes full of surprise, quickly filling with guilt. "Sorry, Carson. I wasn't thinking… Sorry."

"You're alive, Rodney. Anything now is a small price to pay for that. Just _please_ do what's needed to get better. Is a month really that much to sacrifice for the rest of your life? Just do it." Carson sounded so tired, and it seemed to remind Rodney that a mere thank you just didn't do justice to the things he owed Carson for.

"Okay." Simple, one word that said so much more. Carson looked up at him suspiciously; disbelieving that Rodney would capitulate so quickly. Rodney just shrugged at him.

Carson gave a deep happy sigh. "Good. That's good, Rodney. You'll be right in no time, you'll see."

And he was. Rodney was released from the infirmary within two days and his recovery was remarkably quick, although each day seemed a lifetime to Rodney and those around him. They were overjoyed that he was alive and getting better each day, but still tentative that something else might take him away. Having experienced so many ups and downs, they all found it hard to believe that it was over; that it was only his strength he had to regain.

They all stood a little too close, without even realising it. It seemed to take people longer than usual to get mad at him, and Rodney was sure someone had issued a memo without copying him on it. People he didn't even know the name of would remind him of his stamina if he wandered to far from his usual paths, and people would bring him food if he didn't make it to the mess hall and yeah, okay, he wished that memo had been sent a long time ago because that was a godsend.

He wished he could abuse it, but he knew why they were doing it and he just felt guilty that he had made someone worry about him again. Whenever he tried to get into a good rant, people would just remind him of his heart condition and capitulate – it was infuriating. He ranted at Carson and Sheppard instead, but it wasn't the same when they just nodded and smiled back, carrying on as if he was discussing the weather.

In fact, Sheppard seemed to get some sort of cheap thrill out of it, always smirking throughout. Rodney remembered thinking, when he wasn't himself, that Sheppard was a little odd. He was starting to think he was on to something there. At least he was looking better though. The dark rings faded from under his eyes, nervous tension slowly evaporating as he eased back to his usual inhuman laxity. He watched Rodney constantly, as they all did, each waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Smiles eventually returned to their faces, sleep returned to their nights. They stopped rushing to breakfast to assure that he would be there, be okay. Slowly, they allowed him to find his own way to his quarters and his own way to the mess hall and slowly they returned to a semblance of what they were before, with maybe a greater respect for what Rodney McKay had become to all of them.

Everything slowly returned to normal, and then his team saw the other shoe drop. The first time it happened, they were off world, just when everyone was starting to forget and the pain of those three months had dulled. They found themselves under attack by narrow-minded natives who wanted their weapons and Rodney for themselves.

His team were disarmed. Sheppard raised his hands, "Now, there is still time to reconsider. More of our people will come and they will not be so easy to take. We can still be friends." He cast a nervous look over to Rodney who had been separated from them, curled in on himself in fear. Both Teyla and Ronon were behind him, straining to reach Rodney, to protect him.

Rodney was pushed into a corner, and instinct replaced reason as his subconscious found its own escape route, striving for survival whatever the cost. Unused synapses crackled into life, and the faces of their enemies changed from disregard to fear as they watched this scientist, considered the least dangerous of the group and left unguarded, morph from a man who trembled in fear and protected by others to a man who moved with quiet determination and skill, who needed protection from no one.

He straightened up, tall and sure as he spoke with a sneer, "You should have listened." His eyes dulled and then he moved; wound himself around them like silk in the wind, graceful and fluid and beautiful, like a dance. He moved amongst them taking their own weapons from them so smoothly it was like they materialised in his hands and their enemies fell at his feet. It was frightening and awe inspiring to watch. Many of the natives were unable to take their eyes off him until it was too late and he claimed them in his dance, leaving them to fall in his wake, discarded and dead. His team watched, terrified that they might lose him to a lucky strike by one of the natives as they tried to fight their way to him.

When they were free, when everyone but they stood, Rodney stopped and looked at the devastation around him. He dropped the weapon, looking at his hands as if wondering how to remove them from himself. He was shaking when his team approached him hesitantly, "Rodney?" Sheppard said softly, trying to make eye contact, reaching out slowly, a little afraid that even they were not safe from this man they didn't recognise.

Rodney looked at him, heartbreaking confusion in his eyes, body trembling in shock, "I didn't… it wasn't me… I… I killed them all." His team rushed him back to Carson, terrified that the chemical had hidden somewhere, biding its time and was now back with a vengeance. The results said that the chemical was still absent and everyone spent days on tenderhooks, waiting for something else to happen. There were no additional signs, until Rodney was in danger again and they learnt that this was his subconscious which would only materialise in life and death situations.

And they nearly learnt the hard way that it was not something to be relied on to happen every time. It seemed that if Rodney was alone, he depended on his team to rescue him, trusted them over the instinct inside. It was only if there was no other avenue, if he was the only hope that his subconscious materialised.

He had learnt these moves and Rodney McKay didn't need a chemical to retain information. His mind had soaked up the new data but Rodney himself would never access it, fear kept him from using it. Fear that if he opened the door to the part of who he was, he may not be able to close it again. In science you learnt early on to be wary of which doors you opened. No one commented on it, no one knew how to and Rodney would not discuss it further, shutting down anybody who tried.

Even though it had saved his life and those of his team mates on occasion, Rodney and everyone of his team would scrub it from his mind if they could. The act was always a stark reminder that they had lost him, that things had happened to him that they could not take back, that he was not quite the man he used to be and that deep down inside him, another man still lived.

So, they ignored it as best they could and tried to help Rodney through the guilt trips that always came afterwards, and the dreams. Guilt for the blood on his hands and anger that something alien to him and out of his control, something inside of him had killed with his hands. They tried to overcompensate, tried to make everything else as normal as they could, affected the things they could change and ignored the things they couldn't.

They returned to movie nights, eating together and if Rodney still couldn't beat them during their sparring sessions, when his mind refused to lose itself to its subconscious, no one said anything. They moved on and took refuge in the fact that Rodney walked amongst them still and never seemed to stop reminding themselves, through small touches here and there that they didn't even seem aware off. As if their own subconscious needed to check, even years afterwards, they still needed to know he was there, within reach, alive because the alternative was too painful to comprehend.

But they found a happy medium. Rodney was back with them, back where he belonged, whatever the cost.

*******************************

As for Rodney, he never told them the contents of the dreams, about the fear that one day he might not be able to push it back down, that one day this thing inside might kill indiscriminately and he would wake to find his friends at his feet at the end of the dance. The next day he always found himself standing a little too close to them instead or finding excuses to find them, be with them throughout the day. He found those days hard, carrying a fear with him that never quite went away.

But most days he still found it hard to believe that he had all this. He remembered when he was that other man, 'hidden' as Teyla refers to it. He remembers how envious he had felt towards the man they all took him for, the man he is now, and how very deeply he coveted this position. That he had these friends, who loved him, really loved him and cared for him, who would go to extraordinary lengths to protect him. Not because he was an asset to them, but because of him. Once upon a time he would have given the world for that alone, to add Atlantis into the mix made him feel unworthy.

This beautiful place that embraced him and hummed quietly and comfortably in the back of his mind, that whispered home to his very soul and surrounded him with friends who meant everything and more to him, who allowed him to be himself. He felt as though he was the luckiest man alive and sometimes he worried about what price he would have to pay for such luck and sometimes he thought that the fact he was now a killer was the price to be exacted, a price to carry for the rest of his life, and mostly he knew whatever it was, he would pay it gladly.

He had seen his life through the eyes of another, and he knew he had it good. No one and nothing could be better than here and now and these people surrounding him. Finally, he was back, not quite the man he was before, but close enough to be home, close enough to be happy.

THE END.

**_Authors note:_**

_I know some of you wanted more twists but quite frankly real life is intruding too much at the moment so who knows, I may be back later to write a tag or rewrite to stretch it out further. Regardless, the show is over and the curtain has fallen. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for all your comments which always make my day. __Till the next time. Bye bye and thanks for reading._  
_Mirthxx_


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